In France 



with 



Battery F. 305th F. A. 



Dedicated to Captain 

JAMES LLOYD DERBY 




Copyrighted 
By BEN JACOBSON 



/./: 



3 57^ 



INTRODUCTION 



Words shall be few and explanations less in this little diary. 
However, the author does want it understood that his disproportion- 
ate sense of humor has overbalanced all other things in these ac- 
counts. He regrets that it has been impossible to mention everybody 
in this book. Only those who have been more or less incorrigible 
or spasmodically amusing will find themselves in the limelight, while 
the names of a great many heroes in our battery will forever remain 
unsung. 

In the first place, this little book would ne'er have been were it 
not that it rained continually in France following the armistice and 
that we held drills daily and relentlessly in those rains. The birth 
of this little book is due directly to the fact that by creating it the 
author could dodge, avoid, or be excused from the majority of these 
"wet" formations, which were the bane of our existence in France 
after the signing of the armistice. 

The historical data contained herein are facts — the stories perhaps 
so. The book is a great deal shorter than the author ever intended it 
should be. He could not relate all individual happenings, and many 
an interesting story had to be left out. His aim will have been 
achieved, if, from this meager history the personel of the battery 
can individually recall their own personal adventures and trials, 
brought to mind in this general way, and in relating their stories, 
clothe and adorn them, each in his own imaginative speech. 

B.J. 



©CI.A559096 



Off For France 

Not with the sound of bugles, not with bands playing and stand- 
ards unfurled, but in the still of the night with packs and full equip- 
ment, and our every move concealed, we began that memorable 
march "for Berlin." 

At 2.00 A. M. Thursday, April 25th, there was a half-hushed 
blast of the first sergeant's whistle and all men started from their 
resting places on the floor of the clean swept barracks. As they formed 
in column outside, speaking in whispers, there was not a word of dis- 
content. We were a happy, bustling bunch. A delay of an hour be- 
fore starting, and then began a slow, grinding march to the Camp 
Upton Terminal. Everyone was litered with packages. Boxes of 
cigarettes, cakes, and articles never used were tied to the long heavy 
packs and rolls on our backs. In the rear of the column marched a 
slow solemn procession ; a stretcher carried by four men and contain- 
ing one Jimmie Houlihan with badly bent and twisted ankle received 
the day previous in a victorious basketball melee. Halts on the march 
were frequent as the 1st Battalion was entraining. The cars were 
boarded at 5.00 A. M. and fifteen minutes later they pulled out. Packs 
were piled on top of men and men on top of packs. There was scarcely 
room in which to breathe. Those near the windows were the lucky 
ones, and some hung half way out to get the fresh air. Still, everyone 
was in good spirits, and with difficulty the Sergeants in charge of 
each car restrained the men from singing, and, as the cars swung 
madly through each little hamlet, and the groups of villagers would 
wave and cheer, there burst a yell from every throat, and quickly the 
Sergeants would put an end to the racket. As our destination was 
neared, a lieutenant came through the cars, and, discovering the guidon 
unfurled and showing through one of the rear windows, hastily bade 
the holder to cover it at once — ^with it's simple message to the world : 

Battery F, 305 F. A.. 

Long Island City was reached at 7.30 A. M., where the ferry 
"Manhattan Beach" lay in dock. On the trip around lower New York 
and into the North River no cheering or waving was permitted. When 
Hoboken was reached, there was a final check and roll call. One by 
one, in alphabetical order, the boys went up the gang-plank and stepped 
on deck the U.S. S. "Von Steuben," the renamed German Auxiliary 
Cruiser "Kronprinz Wilhelm II." The Red Cross women worked 
feverishly along the line of boys on the pier, distributing hot coffee 
and buns and a pack of cigarettes to each. 

We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon writing our safe 
( ?) arrival cards and watching the hurried loading of the ship. It 
was a hot, stuflfy night below decks in our crowded sleeping quarters, 
and, not enough hammocks to go 'round for everybody, some of us 
had to be S. O. L. and slept on the floor. 

Friday, the 26th, was a bright, sunny day and we could now look 
around and get our bearings. We were at Pier I, North German 
Lloyd Line. The old familiar buildings of lower New York were 
plainly visible to us, and what would we have not given to have been 
able to telephone over and say "Good-bye" to the ones we loved dearly. 



The ship's crew were busy all day, scrubbing decks and polishing her 
guns. She carried four 5-inch guns, ten 3-inch, four one-pounders, 
and two 3-inch anti-aircraft, twenty guns in all. Her passenger list 
consisted of 1107 men and 27 officers. 

Late in the afternoon came the order "Everybody below decks," 
and we were all locked in, hatches down. At 5.30 P. M. we pulled 
out of the dock silently, with no blowing of ship' swhistle — bound for 
France! We were convoying the "Northern Pacific" transporting our 
1st Battalion, and together the two ships passed through the harbor 
and out into the ocean, keeping abreast in the broad expanse, about a 
thousand yards apart. 

No lights were permitted and all in all it was an uncomfortable 
night for everyone except the officers. How we wished we had gone 
to Plattsburg. Staterooms for each one, and their meals were of the 
finest, silver dishes and cutlery adorning their tables. And as for 
us, we had to stand in line for an hour or more perhaps, to be served 
our mess, and would then climb somewhere upon the deck, where the 
wind would blow our bread overboard, or the ashes from the ship's 
funnels get into the stew. 

Saturday was a quiet day, wonderful weather. Our first lifeboat 
drill was held at 1 P. M. and we were all issued cotton-filled life- 
jackets to be worn at all times, even when sleeping. About forty men 
began the Lookout Guard at 4 P. M. to watch for submarines and 
mines from every part of the ship. 

Sunday found a great many of the boys seasick, and it also found 
us dirty. By Jupiter ! it was tough to keep clean in that miserable 
hole, and no water to wash in except saltwater. When it came to 
shaving, if the barber shop was too busy, the drinking water in our 
canteens answered the purpose. As there was a guard placed at the 
drinking cooler to see no one wasted any fresh water, or took any to 
shave or wash with, we had a pretty lively time dodging him with a 
little unauthorized issue in our mess cup. 

We ran into rather heavy seas on Monday and a strong north wind. 
Pretty rough and nearly everybody sick. Boat drills went on regu- 
larly every day, however, and our "Lookout Guard" Corporals were 
pretty busily engaged chasing all over the boat to find some soldiers 
who had weathered the storm sufficiently well to take the places of 
the sick ones in the lookout booths. Kingston, with a red band on 
his sleeve, had a hell of a time trying to rout out the desired parties 
for details. It was more like a game of hide-and-seek, as everybody 
dodged him when they saw him coming, and he roamed ceaselessly 
from one end of the boat to the other. 

Monday was quiet compared to the pitching and rolling of the 
ship on Tuesday. The sailors endeavored earnestly to relieve the 
sufferings of the seasick soldiers. To some of us it was a week of 
terrified agony, mingled with an acute desire for an instantaneous 
death. Poor Gee Tung was a sorrowful spectacle. The courtesies 
and kindness of the crew to us on that trip will never be forgotten — 
'twas like the gentle cheerfulness of a Red Cross nurse. 

Again on Wednesday we encountered high seas and stiff winds, and 
after more boat drills we were mustered in, it being May first. Then 
the officers would take turns reading to us several columns on Gov- 
ernmental Censorship, Articles of War, and lots of other bunk. The 
majority of us listened to it all with pain in our faces and nothing in 



our stomachs. We entered the Submarine Zone about 4 P. M. and 
began zigzagging. For two hours at twilight all hands remained above 
decks. 

This was repeated just before dawn the next morning, pursuant 
to orders, and we sat around on deck from 3.30 A. M. to 5.30. The 
sun poked its nose out for an hour or so Thursday morning, but was 
lost soon in the black clouds rolling up on our starboard. Plenty of 
rain in the afternoon, and again our two unpleasant hours above decks 
waiting patiently and merrily to be torpedoed. 

The sun came out to stay Friday morning, and the sea was fairly 
calm. All signs of seasickness among the boys disappeared, and as 
the morning went on the sea became more and more gentle. At 8 
A. M. we sighted smoke on the horizon, and in fifteen minutes we 
were close enough to discern with the naked eye our little protectors 
of the sea, five American destroyers. They darted in and out and 
around the ship, and then spread out in fan-shape to our right and left. 

We were ordered to pack up towards evening, as we expected to 
make port by morning. We were all on deck as usual at 3.30 A. M. 
Saturday, but all hopes of making the harbor in the morning were 
gone. It was dangerously foggy. Early in the day we narrowly 
missed running down one of the destroyers. Twice we tried to make 
the harbor while the fog lifted a bit, but both times it immediately 
after became denser than ever, and the ship pointed its nose away 
from land travelled in circles. We lost our consort for one hour and 
it was only about noon when it became clear that we were again 
together, with a great many French destroyers, and more American 
added to our convoy. Land was sighted at 1.30 P. M. 

Never will we forget the view of the port of Brest with the old 
stone fortresses on steep promentories booming its welcome salute to 
us as we steamed up the harbor. We were met by American aero- 
planes, a French dirigible and English submarines. It was a perfect 
Spring day and the hills enclosing the port were gloriously tinted with 
various colored foliage. We anchored at 4 P. M. and amused our- 
selves as long at it was daylight, and that was until 9 P. M., by 
pitching our nickles and dimes to the French stevedores on a barge 
moored alongside, and watching them scramble frantically for the 
coins. No one was allowed shore leave except Lieutenant Nissley; 
and it has always remained a matter of great debate to the entire 
battery as to just what he did ashore that night. 

Sunday they recoaled the ship. Everybody got more or less black- 
ened from the clouds of dust that settled over everything aboard. 
Wonderful souvenir booklets of Brest views were sold on ship, and 
we all bought copies at fifty cents a throw and mailed them home, 
thinking in this way we could beat the censor and let the folks know 
just where we were in France. But the censor fooled us, after having 
said they would be O.K.'d, for nary a booklet reached its destination. 

Sunday morning, May the 6th, we were aroused bright and early. 
Inspection on board and then landed on French soil at 9.15 A. M. 
amid the cheers of the sailors and the playing of the ship's band. We 
then marched in the boiling hot sun with full packs to the Pontanezen 
Barracks, three miles from the port. At every stop along the road 
we were beseiged with French children asking for "monnaie" and 
"Americaine cigarette." What little clothes the kids wore were of a 
cheap black cotton material. Boys and girls alike dressed in thin 



loose smocks and wooden shoes. Those who did not ask for cig- 
arettes beg-ged for our biscuits and rations carried on our packs. Our 
first impression of France was one of poverty and starvation. 

Our so-called "rest camp" was reached at noon. It was an old 
walled camp of Napoleon, and we considered ourselves lucky by not 
being housed in the antique barracks. Instead, we were put in large 
squad tents. We nearly froze to death at night, as it turned extremely 
cold. 

The next morning we were up before daybreak, sitting around the 
kitchen fires to keep warm. Orders were suddenly received to leave 
our rest camp. At 10 A. M. we were on our hike back again over 
the road we came up yesterday. The railroad station was on the out- 
skirts of Brest. It was here that we were initiated into the wiles and 
witcheries of corned willy and 'twas here we had our first nip of 
"Vin ordinaire," "cognac" and "benedictine." And praise be to Allah, 
what a long nip it was ! All the way from Brest to Bordeaux that 
"nip" lasted — something around forty hours. Maybe the civilians 
didn't soak us for smuggling the stuff aboard the train. For many a 
bottle of "vin" worth about two francs we had to shell out a nice 
crisp two dollar bill. But 'twas well worth the price, for half the 
misery of that nightmare ride was forgotten with the aid of those 
bottles. 

We were crowded as all other troops were, into the proverbial 
French box car with the sign "40 Hommes ou 8 Chevaux." Some 
cars held 45 men and had but one little opening about two feet square 
for ventilation. At 2.20 P. M. the train pulled out. We passed 
through Landerneau, Chateaulinm, Quimper and Rosporden before 
night set in. Our old horse cars of twenty years ago went faster than 
the imitation engines we had. And just when the train started to 
make good time, about 10 P. M., our "frog" brakeman fell off. We 
thought we would have to dynamite the train to stop it. There was 
no way of com.municating the loss of our valuable brakeman to the 
engineer, so we yelled and tooted the bugles and one sergeant fired a 
few shots from his revolver. The engineer was finally convinced some- 
thing had happened when someone who could talk not a word of 
French crawled out of and over the cars to his box and made wild 
motions. The train was stopped on a side track about five miles from 
the scene of the accident. We waited patiently while the engine was 
run back and gather in our frightened but unhurt brakeman. 

We stretched our legs a bit at Nantes where we arrived at 7 A. M. 
Wednesday. The French Red Cross served us black coffee in our 
mess tins, and at first it had a horrible taste. Then some genius dis- 
covered it was the cognac flavor from the barrels which contained the 
coffee. Immediately there was a rush for "seconds" and "thirds." We 
quickly bought out the lunch room at the station and the old ladies 
were so excited over getting such extravagant prices for their wares 
that not one of us bothered to pay for the drinks they dished out. Dur- 
ing the day we passed through Glisson, La Roche-Sur-Yon, Lucon, 
Rochefort-Sur-mer, and Saintes. 

Again followed an enjoyable half suffocating night in our delight- 
ful roomy and clean box cars. At 3 A. M. we were at the railroad 
station in Bordeaux. To cheer us up we were served "hot coffee' that 
was black, tasteless and ice cold. 



A real American engine pulled our train to a point about twelve 
miles north of Bordeaux called Bonneau. We detrained and hiked 
along a good road for about two miles to our destination, Camp Souge. 
The road was congested with huge American-built trucks carrying 
supplies and our blue bags. It was here we had our first glimpse at 
x^ ranee's famous goldbricks — Chinese coolies. What a mixture of 
sloth, slovenness and slime. They were clothed in just enough gar- 
ments to keep Anthony Comstock from serving a subpoena upon them. 
Each was more curiously decorated than the other. They carried either 
a raincoat or a parasol ; some held canary cages in hand ; others, tea- 
pots ; more still were loaded with fresh vegetables ; and all wore the 
oddest collection of head-gear from a milk maid's bonnet to a silk dress 
hat. 

Our barracks were fine, better than we had ever dreamt of. We 
had latrines and even a shower bath. The day was spent getting our 
wooden bunks together and filling bedsacks with straw. Everybody 
had a good night's rest, the first in fourteen days. The night was 
bitterly cold and damp, yet during the day it had been terribly hot. 
During cur entire stay the weather was pretty much the same — a pene- 
trating cold at night and from hot to boiling during the day. 

The next couple of days passed by in cleaning equipment, resting 
up and buying lots of eatables at the commissary and from the French 
carts allowed within the camp limits. Our purchasing capacities were 
enlarged bv changing at the Y. M. C. A. our good American money 
into vast quantities of strange looking, tissue-papered francs, which we 
all reluctantly did. Captain Mitchell announced we would stay here 
for approximately two months — good guess, to the day — and by the 
new schedule to take effect Monday we must arise at 5.30 A. M. have 
but forty-five minutes apiece for breakfast and dinner and hold re- 
treat at 5.30 P. M. Ten and a half hours of actual work — real in- 
tensive training. 

Saturday morning we were allowed outside the gate marking the 
camp limits, to imbibe freely of stipulated light French vins only, in 
"orderly" and well-chosen estamines. Fine ! We had everything, any- 
where , 

Nineteen men from the battery were given passes to Bordeaux, by 
mistake reading for overnight. And, by their quiet, mannerly and 
lady-like behavior, killed the act for all of us. 

Sunday, May the 12th, was Mother's Day and, of course, everyone 
more or less full of vin wrote letters sparkling with enthusiasm for 
that wonderful part of France we were in, with its beautiful scenes 
on the lake, and the days that would be light until 9.30 P. M, 

The next day, however, started the process of squashing the senti- 
ment and romance in our systems. A stiff schedule of drill periods; 
school for the officers ; school for the enlisted specialists ; meals tasting 
of horse meat — these were the things warranted and guaranteed to 
knock out all sentimentality and artistic temperament from the tender- 
est to the most stoic. 

The artists chosen for telephone school consisted of Sergeant Mc- 
Kenna (bless him). Corporals Dupree, Duckworth, Spiegel, Jacobson ; 
Privates Houlihan, Brown, Stengren. The radio experts were Corpo- 
ral Horton, Privates Carson and Fried. The "Wildcats" chosen for 
machine gun instruction consisted of Corporal Skillmen and Privates 



Liebler, Kehoe, Sammler, Neuwerth, Rolke. All of the above details 
were immediately set down by the remainder of the battery as qualified 
A-1 "goldbricks." 

The battery had its first gun drill. It was an exciting moment — 
our first handling of a French "75." There was a medical inspection, 
and five men were taken to the hospital ; two for scarlet fever, a couple 
for measles and one for mumps^ 

The week was a corker. Schools in the forenoon and drills in 
the P. M., including close order in our famous sand fields under a 
perfectly healthy and broiling hot sun. Wednesday we received our 
first mail from the U. S., transferred from Camp Upton, and also the 
bounteous assignment of four horses to the battery. Friday was the 
day of the horse shoe nail found in the stew at noon, convincing all 
disbelievers that we really were thriving on horse flesh. Immediately 
there was a rush on the egg market resulting in a boost of a half 
franc a dozen by the French peddlers quick to see that for some un- 
known cause there had arisen a sudden urgent demand for their wares. 
The bull market continued as, day by day, more and more men of the 
more dubious sort were convinced of the presence of "horse meat" and 
joined the ranks of the egg-eaters. It was luxurious living, but that 
made no difference. At mess time the kitchen was jammed with so 
many fellows frying eggs and making omelets a la Duckworth, that 
Mess Sergeant Greenlee was certain he had now succeeded in reach- 
ing that stage where he could afford to give a full portion of mess to 
the rest of the battery waiting in line, and seconds, too, plentifully. 

Corporal Dupree and five men, Privates Foray, Rosenzweig, Eddie 
Miller, George Johnson and J. A. Williams, were quarantined in a 
separate barracks being under a suspicion for contact with contagious 
cases that had been sent to the hospital. 

Saturday was a half holiday — drills in the morning and off in the 
afternoon. Hot day, as usual, and quite a bunch went swimming in 
the lake. Five more horses were assigned to the battery. Sunday was 
a real rest, and plenty of time to wash clothes, write mail, and go 
swimming in the lake. The estamines were very popular, particularly 
one, where Sergeants Pohlman, McHenry and Garry were wont to 
frequent. It was a little shack that had a thriving business, over- 
flowing the premises and out into the backyard where tables and 
wooden benches were set around. 'Way in the back was a well in 
which the proprietor would keep cool his bottles of "vin." The 
"Garry" bunch had the table nearest the well reserved for them, so 
that while the proprietor was engaged in lowering a basket filled with 
warm bottles to float in the ice-cold water of the well, they could 
"salvage" about three cold bottles unbeknown to the proprietor, from 
the basket he had just pulled up, and so get four bottles of "vin" for 
two francs instead of only one bottle. 

The one thing that stood out above all others during the week 
May 19-25, with heartbreaking prominence, was the quarantininsr of 
the battery and regiment, to the limits of the camp. This was due to 
the alarming daily increase of contagious cases taken to the hospital. 
Of course, we couldn't get it out of our heads that the quarantine 
was not due to the major general's desire to inflict a little punishrnent 
for the Bacchanalian revelry enjoyed by the bunch that spent the night 
of May il-12 in Bordeaux. 



It was hot as hell all week. Schools in the morning, drills in the 
afternoon, and Sergeant Anderson's gas mask instruction at odd 
periods helped make us look like "drowned rats," by the time retreat 
rolled around. 

Wednesday forty-four horses were assigned to the battery, good 
ones, so good that when Sergeant Ecock put the two best ones in 
harness to an empty fourgon wagon they couldn't even budge it until 
he administered his patented massage treatment. 

Thursday night of the 23d we received our money for April. It 
was the first pay-day in France and it was late at night, almost 10 
P. M., as we stood in line each one awaiting his turn to bellow "here" 
and salute reverently the stacks of dough piled on the table that he 
was not going to get. We were paid in "frog" money and everybody 
agreed that the reason we had to wait until after dark to "collect" 
was that the paymaster decided on this course so we couldn't see the 
"stage" money we were getting. Lights were going in the barracks 
until midnight disclosing groups of the boys scrambled on the floor, 
paper and pencil in hand, trying to figure out just how much real 
dough they had received. Oh, yes, we finally calculated how much 
that bunch of tissue paper represented, but it didn't look like it. No- 
body has ever respected the value of a franc — or of a hundred — to this 
day. It has never seemed to impress us as real money. 

On Saturday, after a gruelling hot day at drill, we had our first 
gun competition for the battalion. Nobody felt like working, so as 
a reward for our excellent showing all non-coms were called together 
by Captain Mitchell in back of the latrine and informed that their 
jobs were not likely to be steady unless there was a material im- 
provement. 

Sunday was a beautiful day and it was our turn at Regimental 
Guard. 

The week of May 26- June 1st began our really interesting work, 
firing on the range. We began with 400 rounds Wednesday after- 
noon and knocked 'em dead — showed 'em all up. We might not have 
been good on a drill field, but when it came down to shooting — the 
real test — we couldn't be beaten. We had received 26 more horses in 
the morning to help us get the guns to the range and we needed 'em. 
The quarantined boys returned to our barracks before nightfall with 
the joyous tidings that we would now be allowed outside the gate — 
the quarantine had been lifted so that we could go to Bordeaux for 
Decoration Day — tomorrow. 

The party was spoiled a bit by our going out to the range in the 
morning on Decoration Day and shooting some more. The firing bat- 
tery and telephone detail did not get back until 2 P. M. and were 
just about in time to see their more lucky comrades go dashing for 
Bordeaux in two of the trench mortar trucks. A real party in Bor- 
deaux all right, and most of us got in somebody else's truck in front 
of the "Y. M." at 9 P. M. without being invited to do so by the 
M. P.'s, and without being able to find the "P. S." 

The hot weather continued right along and made muster particu- 
larly uncomfortable with blouses on. So somebody balled it up Friday 
afternoon and we had to do it over again to please the "majuh," Sat- 
urday, June 1st at 3 P. M., and that killed all chances of making an- 
other trip to Bordeaux. We also received 30 more horses and that 



kept the drivers a little more occupied. The only pastime left to us 
now standing in line at the Y. M. C. A. to get a chance to buy enough 
oranges for the whole week and eat 'em all in one day. 

Sunday, June 2d, white passes were issued, good for the towns of 
Bonneau, Isaac, St. Medard, Martignas and St. Jean d'lllac. Only 
non-coms and first-class privates received these cards, but what 
wouldn't a fellow do for a friend? And, naturally, everybody that 
wanted to visit the above "vin-joints" had a card. So, although in 
this first week of June drills were twice as hard, gas masks had to 
be worn twice as long, and the stables now meant four times as much 
■work — who cared In the evening there was always a good meal 
awaiting us at St. Jean d'lllac, with all the good vin and cherry brandy 
a man could drink, and pay for. 

Monday, the 3d, we were roused at 4.15 A. M. for target practice 
on the range and did not return until 6.15 P. M. for supper. We fired 
709 rounds and it was a hard day's work. The battery was pretty 
much all in after the long hike back in the thick hot sand, and every- 
body tumbled into their bunks early for a solid night's rest. On Tues- 
day, 22 casuals were assigned to the battery — not horses — casuals, in- 
cluding our famous Manwaren-Swada delegation. Regular routine 
continued in force and we began to realize the necessity of good long 
sleeping hours. 

Thursday we fired all day on the range again, this time using shell- 
reduced. 

Friday evening the boys were down to "four corners" in bunches 
as Saturday was a soft day, the usual drills in the morning and the 
mean-less-than-nothing gun competition in the P. M. Passes for Bor- 
deaux were granted to a lucky few and a great many unlucky ones 
went along solely for companionship. 

The flies around the camp now became a serious menace to the 
health of the soldiers. Day after day another batch of men would 
be sent to the hospital. An official count was made of the men suflFer- 
ing from dysentery by the first sergeant, and it was found that 62 were 
severely ill at this time in our one battery. 

But a little thing like dysentery couldn't keep a man from going 
to Bordeaux, as Carl Schaeffer will testify, even if it was a trifle 
embarrassing to him and absolutely mystifying to his "lady friend." 

The week of June 9-15 particular stress was laid by the signal 
detail on work with projectors, semaphore and wig- wag, stuilf we never 
used at the front. 

We were paid on the 11th for May, not so bad, and the rest of 
the week small egg omeletes consisting of eight to ten "oeufs" for 
one person were frequent and not alarming. 

Wednesday, the 12th, was another early morning target practice 
at the range. We were routed out of bed at 4 A. M. We fired with 
reciprocal laying and used the quadrant for the first time in firing 
the pieces. 

We had regimental guard on Friday and, of course, far be it from 
us to gossip, to wantonly tell tales about the officers in this logbook, 
but, being as the offenders were not our officers — this time — the above 
facts must be recorded. Our Private Goodwin, on guard Saturday 
from 1 A. M. to 3 A. M. at the offiicers' quarters, had considerable 
difficulty in maintaining quiet and order at the officers' luxurious 

10 



mess-halls and had to several times threaten to pinch the bunch. 
"Goody" was finally reconciled by getting a couple of swigs from 
the colored waiter, and patrolled his beat in peace until, as he re- 
ported to' the corporal of the guard and to the O. D. on their rounds 
that there was no use of having a guard there. He had challenged a 
couple of officers approaching him and one lovingly assured him that 
he was "pure as a lily," and the other that he hadn't touched a drop, 
but couldn't find his house. 

Saturday we again had target practice in the A. M. Passes were 
issued for Bordeaux. "Four comers" rapidly began losing its popu- 
larity now with the white card permitting us to visit Medard and 
Jean d'lUac. Of course, 50 per cent of each section had to remain 
around barracks to water the horses and attend to other details. The 
bunch that were ofif Saturday stayed at the Barracks Sunday, washed 
clothes and let the other fellows have a chance to get a sore head and 
an empty pocketbook. 

Monday, the 17th, our regular routine was broken by everybody 
being called out (just before eating) at 11.30 A. M. to fight a fire on 
the range. No water, so we had to use sticks and shovels, and ask 
anybody if it wasn't real hard work. We got back at 5.30 P. M. 
starved and blackened, and cussing the world in general, as the water 
supply was turned off at 5.15 and we couldn't even wash up. Of 
course, there was the lake but we were too weary to walk 'way over 
there through the thick sands. 

The Limoge party left today, consisting of 28 men, three corporals 
and one sergeant. They were gone for four weeks and the remainder 
of the battery always pitied the poor fellows "stuck" on this detail. 
But we didn't know at that time just how they were getting along or 
our pity might suddenly have changed to envy. 

They were supposed to have been quarantined in a half cleaned 
stable in Limoge, but we are now assured no one ever slept there ex- 
cept the guard. Limoge will remain forever in the minds of those un- 
fortunates as a place where money was not essential tO' have a good 
time. Everyone was broke, yet the French people treated them like 
lords. They had plenty to eat, all they wanted to drink and any 
French home was theirs. Corporal Michael Lyons has a particularly 
healthy smile when we ask him about Limoge, and we understand, 
from a little inside information, that he had a shade on everybody's. 
Pretty soft! 

Working hours were short and consisted only in taking care of 
the horses as they were delivered to the regimental corral. A French 
soldier picked the mounts as they arrived, for the French outfits ; and 
a French woman chose the horses for the Americans. We all agree 
she was a good picker — for the French army. 

Before we go back to the battery news at Souge, the 4th of July 
dinner the boys received at Limoge, must be mentioned in all fairness 
to the French. They killed two pigs, served a wonderful meal and 
furnished their own champagne in honor of the day. 

At Souge there was plenty of work for the drivers the week of 
June 16-22. The new French harness was received on Tuesday, the 
18th, and Lieutenants Burden and Steis were quite occupied instruct- 
ing the drivers in the proper application of same. 

Thursday A. M. we were at the range and fired our first barrage 

11 



in practice. One of Battery B's guns blew up, killing two men and 
the boys' spirits were a bit dampened by the news of the accident. 
It was forgotten entirely the next day, however, and never has our 
confidence in the wonderful French 75's been shaken again. 

Early Friday A. M. we were firing again on the range, gunners 
and numbers one riding their pieces carelessly. After one-half hour's 
practice word was received to cease firing as there was a fire on the 
range. We hiked five miles to fight it. It was two o'clock when the 
fire was finally checked and put out and we started back for the bar- 
racks. When in sight of it we were turned around and hiked again 
to the range. Completed our firing and then returned weary and foot- 
sore to our barracks to eat. 

Saturday morning we had more target practice, and at last the rea- 
son was learned why the kitchen persistently arrived late with the mess. 
A man was despatched to locate them on the road and discovered that 
the kitchen force took the longest way 'round, far beyond the camp 
limits, in order to stop at the gin-mills and get a few drinks. We 
had the usual unsatisfactory battalion gun competition on the range 
in the P. M. 

Sunday, the 23d, there were lots of passes to Bordeaux. There 
were only two or three trucks for the regiment and it was always 
necessary for half of us to get a lift on somebody else's truck going 
in probably as far as Medard, or walk there — five miles — and then 
take the dinky trolley line to Bordeaux for six cents. 

Coming back the trucks were crowded beyond their limits. It 
was with God's own grace that we always managed to come through 
without a serious accident. The 9 P. M. trucks were one struggling 
mass of more or less fizzled humanity. Arms and legs were stuck 
out in all directions and men hung limply to any part of the truck 
body, seat, top, or tail-board, they could grab hold of. It was a 
sight that will linger forever in our memory. Waiting for the 
departure, crowds of French civilians surrounded the loaded trucks 
and the boys merrily sang the Star Spangled Banner, the Marseillaise, 
and the latest Broadway ragtime hits to them. With a lurch the car 
was ofif, it's powerful motor throbbing restlessly under the strain 
of the heavy load. As the line of trucks swung through the streets of 
Bordeaux to the outskirts, headed for camp, store-keepers, villagers, 
old men and women, waved gleefully from doors and windows, to 
the happy singing American boys, who had left the best part of their 
month's pay in town without remorse. 

We had target practice at the range every day this week, June 24-28 
and in compliance with regimental order everyone had to wear his 
gas mask for one entire hour every day that week at a certain specified 
hour, no matter where he was or in what work has was engaged. It 
was a severe test as the weather was unbearably hot. Starkie, how- 
ever, did it with ease. It was like eating pie to him. He had been in 
the habit of ducking out of the supply room and crawling into his 
bunk every day for the last month or so. He slept right through 
the morning and afternoon only getting up for mess. In order to 
keep the flies from disturbing his peaceful slumbers, he had tried 
sleeping with his gas mask on. It worked wonderfully, better than 
mosquito netting, and any time of the day when the flies were the 

12 



thickest and the heat the hottest Starkie could be found, his thoughts 
in dreamland and his face in his gas mask, 

Friday, after target practice, a fire broke out on the range and 
was not extinguished until Saturday morning. 

Saturday the guard at Bonneau fell to our battery and the boys 
who were stuck went down in anything but a happy, playful mood. 
The coolies there had just been paid and were pickled to the gills. 
So, naturally, whenever one of the above usually timid unmolesting 
Chinks got pesky with one of our docile guards, or two Chinks would 
start a little Chateau-Thiery of their own in ninety-six different sharps 
and flats, our boys, just to give vent to their satisfaction at spending 
Saturday with them, instead of with friends in Bordeaux, and also 
to demonstrate how fervently we loved 'em, would belt a couple on 
the bean and then bump another one, about a mile away from the 
scene of trouble, for luck. 

Sunday, the 30th, was muster. All the guns were cleaned. The 
sections of the battery, reorganized and horses assigned to certain 
drivers. Something was in the air. 

The next day, July 1st, came the rumors of our departure for the 
front. We began to speculate, then to bet, on what front we were 
going. From what the papers said it looked as if they would only 
leave us where we were for another month, the Germans would move 
the front down to us, and so save our being transported 'way up to 
the battle line. But it probably wouldn't have been a safe procedure, 
so we began packing. Target practice went on as usual in the after- 
noon. 

We received more horses Tuesday. Went out to the range after 
dark and had night firing. Quite a spectacle. We would call it a 
Fourth-of-July celebration with fireworks. Shrapnel was exploding at 
about a 50-mil height of burst and the flashes of the guns along the 
whole battalion front made one think of Coney Island. 

Wednesday we unpacked to get ready to parade in Bordeaux to- 
morrow. The battery, consisting of the first gun crews — four pieces 
and the caissons — left at 2 P. M., just as it started raining. The 
boys were greatly disappointed when they pitched tents outside of 
Bordeaux at the old racetrack, and were not granted passes to town. 
Lieutenant Steis took Corporal Duckworth as interpreter to find 
water for the horses, and were the only lucky two.' Duckie, with his 
usual ingenuity, managing to discover some good bottles of "vin" in- 
stead of locating plain water. 

The battery paraded in Bordeaux 4th of July morning, along with 
the others, and then back to Camp Souge, arriving about nightfall. 
The rest of the boys who spent the day in Bordeaux on pass, and not 
in parade, had a wonderful joy-party celebrating over Declaration of 
Independence with more than the usual amount of cognac. 

Friday, the 5th, was a perfect day. Lots of mail in and pay-day. 
We needed it. 

Saturday was a fine day and quite a bunch of the boys went to 
Bordeaux to buy souvenirs for the folks back home, as we knew we 
were leaving soon. 

Sunday morning we washed all soiled clothes, and got everything 
in readiness to leave. Captain Mitchell succeeded in getting a motor 
truck for the battery to take us to Bordeaux for the P. M. About 

13 



thirty of us had passes, yet more than seventy were aboard the truck 
as it swung through the gate of the camp going to town. 

Monday morning bright and early our battery started cleaning out 
the gun parks, the officers' quarters and the stables for the entire 1st 
and 2d Battalion. 

We then started cleaning up our own barracks. Brody was given 
a detail of burning up the piles of rubbish that the other bucks were 
carting out of our barracks. He displayed his usual cunning by brib- 
ing the two Chincks who were hanging around with two bags of 
"Bull-Durham" and a pack of cigarette papers, to do his work for 
him. He immediately retreated to the Y. M. C. A. and camped there 
all day while his two Chinks labored silently and diligently completing 
his job in a much more meritorious manner than Brody could have 
done. 

John Bohannon, first sergeant, and Ben Jacobson, instrument cor- 
poral, managed to work Captain Mitchell for a pair of theatre passes 
to Bordeaux good until 1 A. M., in order to celebrate our departure 
for the front. They came back in a velvet-cushioned taxi to Souge 
and no sleep. The battery was awakened at 3.20 A. M., packs rolled, 
less than no breakfast, and all arrangements completed. We left Camp 
Souge at 7 A. M. Tuesday, July 9th, in a broken line of march — some 
on foot, some on horse, and others by motor truck. We entrained at 
Bonneau in two hours, even rigging up telephone lines along the whole 
train. We had mess at the station consisting of canned tomatoes and 
"willy" and other similar delicacies. 

We left Bonneau at 1.15 P, M. and rode for 56 hours. It was an- 
other case of "couchez" in the hay in box cars but we were all happy. 
It wasn't half as bad as the trip from Brest to Bordeaux and the con- 
solation of it all was that we almost lost Greenlee, our beloved mess 
sergeant. He fell off the train while it was in motion on the second day 
out and we all prayed while the train was being stopped and a detail 
was sent back to pick up the pieces. It was the closest call Battery F 
ever had to getting good mess. 

The big burgs we passed through on this trip were: 

Libourne, Mussidan, Perigueux, Limoges, St. Sebastian at (7.05 
A. M., July 10), Chateauroux, Issoudun, Bourges, Sancerre, Clamecy, 
Mailly-la-ville, Chateau-villain (at 7.15 A. M., July 11), Bricon, Chau- 
mont (at 9.15 A. M.), Langres, Culmont, Hortes, Barges, Passavant, 
Darney, Thaon, Vincey, Charmes, Bayon, Einvaux, Blainville, Lune- 
ville and Baccarat. 

We reached Baccarat at 11 P. M. and detrained. We were alarm- 
ingly informed that it was only three kilometers to the front line 
trenches, and all precautions should be taken so as not to apprise the 
enemy of our arrival. We first of all unloaded the blue bags and took 
all helmets out, as we were assured the German aviators bombed the- 
station every night and we needed the helmets for protection. Say, the 
war began to look serious ! No lights were allowed, and we talked in 
whispers. The unloading progressed quietly and quickly and was com- 
pleted at 1.30 A. M., and not a Boche plane in sight and not a shell 
had fallen. 

Everything went along smoothly until we started off and then — woe 
be unto us — our rolling kitchen could be heard along those roads for 

14 



ten miles — klankety, klank, klank ! We expected any minute a ton of 
shot to fall on us, but it never came. 

We reached Bertrechamps about 3.30 A. M., watered the horses and 
rested up all morning. We made our "echelon" in the woods and in 
the afternoon drank a little "vin" in town and wrote our farewell let- 
ters home. We were going into firing position the following night. 
We left at 6 P. M., July 13th — the 3d and 4th guns only went up with 
the telephone, machine gun and camouflage detail. Reached our posi- 
tion about 1 A. M. in a black night and pouring rain. There was no 
sleep for anyone. Position was about 200 metres north of the road 
between Neuf Maison and Vacqueville. It rained all day and we got 
little chance to sleep. This was Sunday, July 14th, the French Na- 
tional holiday. We laid our first lines to E Battery and began camou- 
flaging. 

The 1st Platoon came up at night. There was more digging and 
no sleep for us. 

Monday, the 15th, everything was quiet. The telephone men made 
their first trip to the dreadful "No Man's Land" and we had the pleas- 
ing and interesting sensation of watching the Boche aeroplanes over- 
head being shot at. Sergeant Dooley is the acting first sergeant at the 
gun position. 

Tuesday we did more digging, as our pits didn't fit the elephant 
irons just so, and somebody thought we ought to change the line of 
fire. We also turned around our camouflage nets a few times for ditto 
reason. 

Wednesday all day there was considerable aerial activity which les- 
sened our working hours at digging — "It's an ill wind, etc." Also 
somebody discovered good champagne could be bought at the farm and 
the officers soon had three bottles. We finally received our revolvers 
and ammunition, and as soon as we got the chance we would go off 
somewhere and see how near we could come to hitting the side of a 
house. 

Thursday, July 18th, the battery registered, and Corporal Spiegel 
was sent down to the infantry front line trenches as liaison agent. The 
Germans shelled the Peronne road last night and that put a stop to 
bringing the wagon-trains in by that roundabout way and somebody 
we know very well was not a bit sore that he could now get a little 
sleep. 

Friday, the 19th, five men were detailed for instruction on handling 
the 60 and 95 mm. guns, made in 1882 and 1890, respectively. Com- 
munication with O. P. was very difficult to maintain (see Sergeant 
McKenna). 

Saturday, the 20th, was a beautiful summer day with an occasional 
air battle to lend "atmosphere" and setting to this busy front. 

Sunday we had nothing to do all day — "mirabile dictu." Even First 
Sergeant Bohanan at the echelon allowed everybody there 1^ hours 
off to go to Bertrechamps and wash clothes. Our blue bags were taken 
away today — never to he seen again. 

On Monday night the second gun, under Sergeant Parlee, moved 
forward about two kilometers to the "pirate" position. It was dark 
and rainy and we had a lovely time getting in. The medico and as- 
sistant gas N. C. O. went along in case of need. 

It rained all day Tuesday and the extra men dug two gun positions 

15 



in the wood directly in front of "Parlee' position. A lookout station 
was formed called "Madison" connecting the pirate gun to the main 
position which we called "Hunt" station. 

Wednesday night Captain Mitchell mistook two trees for a couple 
of spies and ran around them in a circle hollering: "Halt! or I'll fire!" 
and would have shot, only he didn't have his gun. 

Thursday, the 25th, Father Sheridan visited us and stayed over 
night. We sent Sergeant Tingle and five privates on detached service 
to Battery B, as their gun crews were quarantined. 

Friday it was still raining. We lost Lieutenant Steis — transferred 
to the Gas Service. Sergeant Parlee left in the P. M. for Officers' 
Training School and Jacobson was put in charge of the pirate gun. 

It rained heavily Saturday all day. We played the game of "Trial 
Barrage" on and off during the day and night. It was a hell of a lot 
of sport trying to see how fast you could get a shot off, but Schaefifer 
almost lost his life on one occasion at the pirate position while re- 
pairing the line to the aiming light. He was directly in front of the 
muzzle when the command "Fire" was given, and he saved his life 
only by dropping to the ground, getting his blouse badly scorched and 
his hearing somewhat jarred, not to mention anything about the fit 
Corporal Dupree had while trying to stop the piece from being fired. 

Monday, the 29th, we all signed the payroll and also were deloused 
at Indian Village. 

The night of Tuesday, the 30th, about 10 P. M., "Jerry" came over 
in one of his bombing planes and came very close to putting Battery 
F off the face of the map. He dropped three bombs in rapid succes- 
sion from a very low altitude and they landed squarely among our 
shelter tents, one just narrowly missing Lieutenant Derby and Private 
Hundt at the telephone station and another barely escaping destroying 
our kitchen. It was a close call and nobody was injured at all. 

Wednesday we received word that we break camp tomorrow and 
leave for a "regular" front. Our schooling was at an end — now for 
the big fight! Everything was being put into readiness and just while 
we were having dinner at 6.15 P. M., over came a shell, exploding in 
the woods right near us. It spoiled everybody's dinner and broke up 
the mess. Beans were thrown in all directions and the battery dove 
headlong into our huge dugout to await the next shell. We were then 
ordered to crawl to the other woods by No. 1 gun and sleep there. 

At the pirate position the gas alarm was going all night, but we 
never even got one sniff of any gas. If the Germans were sending any 
gas over, all the harm it was doing was to keep us from getting any 
sleep. 

Thursday, August 1st, the telephone lines were taken up, wagons 
packed with everything in sight, and the gas stores left behind. We 
were to pull out of positions at 11 P. M. and did so on the dot. The 
main battery under Lieutenant Derby met the pirate gun with Lieu- 
tenant Nissley at Vacqueville at midnight. 

We travelled on the road all night and morning, passing through 
Vacqueville, Baccarat, Fontenoy, Domptail, St. Pierremont, and camp- 
ing in woods near Magnieres at 11 A, M. We caught a couple of 
hours' sleep, had a corned willy meal and hardtack and harnessed up 
again at 6 P. M. We waited in formation with our carriages until 

16 



12.30 A. M. before the regiment had pulled out of Magnieres and we 
resumed our road march. 

We again travelled all night passing through Bayon and arrived 
at Bainville at 8 A. M. It was tough, all right, and we were all more 
or less asleep on our horses, and at every halt along the march the 
boys who were walking would flop on the wet ground for a few min- 
utes' sleep. 

We were given billets in Bainville, sleeping on cots with hay mat- 
tresses, located in empty dwellings — upper lofts of occupied houses, 
and in stables and barns. In one particular billet the boys slept with 
a nice young pig as a companion, and the rooster and hens would come 
in and visit them occasionally and perch all over their beds. 

We were the first American troops to be billeted in the town and 
we were treated excellently. They had wonderfully good beer, just 
like home, and any and every house woman would cook us up a cork- 
ing good dinner for little money. 

Sunday, the 4th, Sergeant Dooley appointed first sergeant. The 
articles of war were again read to us, but this time to the "non-coms" 
only and in an even, calm, but firm tone, each word hardly more than 
a whisper, but as clear and distinct and impressive as the chimes of 
an old church bell. And the crisis was passed. We loved and hon- 
ored the reader of those words and our decision was as one man — we 
would all go through hell for him without a whimper. 

Mass was held in the church next to the ruins of an old monument 
built in the 9th century, and in the P. M. we went bathing in the 
Moselle. Pat Kiernan went fishing with a bent pin, but had no luck 
as he forgot to put bait on his line. 

Monday we had a good time. Little to do and we had lots of beer 
and good meals. Quite a bunch more had a bath in the river and to 
bed early, the cafes being closed at 8.30 P. M. 

Tuesday, the 6th, we were ordered to move. We packed up and 
left Bainville at 5 P. M. Entrained at Charmes at 8 P. M. and the 
train pulled out at 11 P. M. Our line of travel was through Neuf cha- 
teau, Bar-le-duc, Revigny, Pargny, Vitny-le-Francois, Sompuis, Som- 
mesons, Connantre, Sazanue, Esternay, Joiselle, St. Simeon, and ar- 
rived at Chailly-Boissy at 7 P. M. the next day, which was Wed- 
nesday, the 7th. We lost Lieutenant Derby at the last station before 
our destination was reached as our train had pulled out without him, 
but he came along all right on the next train. 

We detrained at 10 P. M. and harnessed up our pretty sick horses. 
As we started our march No. 3 caisson held us up a bit by falling over 
the little bridge we had to cross and down into the "river" below. 
Luckily, the horses were not pulled in with it and more luckily they 
call any old mud puddle a river in France. Nobody was drowned and 
we were off again, marching all night until about 4 A. M., when we 
reached a little cluster of farm houses called Le petit-sur-nois (near 
Doux) and after tying the horses up to the picket lines, crawled in hay 
lofts and bams. We slept until 7.30. Were assigned to billets and 
then cleaned material. We are about 25 miles due east of Paris and 
about the same distance south of Chateau-Thiery. 

During the night of August 8th the camouflage net on the 4th 
piece mysteriously caught fire and burned up and Masterson did a 
Paul Revere up and down the road on horseback yelling : "Fire ! 

2.7 



"Fire"! While he was arousing the army to fight the flames, Farina, 
on guard at the time, was doing a hula-hula around the burning net, 
trying to put it out without scorching his hands. 

Friday, the 9th, we packed up to move and then unpacked again. 
We had pistol practice in the P. M. and "Red" Hinds was almost 
winged. 

Saturday, the 10th, we left at 3.20 P. M. and marched all the rest 
of the day and all night, passing through Coulommiers, Rebais and 
Sablonmieres, We made camp at 5.30 A. M. in the woods overlook- 
ing Chezy (sur-Marne) and as worn out as we were, we started right 
in cleaning material. Corporal Hovey fell asleep on the march while 
dismounted and lost his horse and his pack. Our corned willy tasted 
good to us today, and most of us took a swim in the Marne to re- 
freshen us a bit. 

Pulled out at 7 P. M. Passed through Chateau-Thiery at 10 P. M. 
and again kept going all night. At daybreak camped in woods north 
of Courpoil, called Foret de Fere. It had been a scene of recent severe 
fighting and the spoils of battle lay on the grounds amid the newly 
dug graves of Americans and Huns. Quite a number of dead horses 
were strewn around and the stench was far from pleasant. We slept 
a bit, cleaned material and pulled out again at 7.30 P. M. 

Arrived at 4 A. M., August 12th, at Foret de Nesle. Quentin 
Roosevelt's grave was about one kilometer away from our camp. Very 
near our watering place was Chateau Nesles, once visited by Joan of 
Arc and where Napoleon spent his honeymoon with Josephine. 

We lost our kitchen and were out of luck until the next day for 
coffee or any warm food. The flies were terrible. There were mil- 
lions of 'em round the camp. 80 per cent of the battery's effectives 
were down with a most severe dysentery, too weak to stand. It was 
now ascertained that this is to be our echelon and the guns go into 
position from here. 

We slept in our shelter tents in the woods and it was a dizzy night. 
The Boche bombed the woods all around us from aeroplanes, and 
during the entire night we were kept awake by some damn fool gas 
alarms. 

Wednesday, August 14th, after our kitchen arrived we were served 
rotten cabbage and it added another bunch to the sick list. Captain 
Mitchell was transferred to the Battalion Field Staff and Captain 
Delanoy assigned to our battery. As a protection from aeroplane bombs, 
everybody had to dig little graves about six inches deep, for them- 
selves to sleep in at night. Towards evening the roar of the distant 
cannon increased gradually in intensity, as barrage after barrage was 
repeated and by dark the black skies were rent with ceaseless crimson 
jets of flame. 

It was the "call of the wild," and our blood tingled with the ex- 
citement, the desire, the knowledge that tomorrow we'd be in it — the 
"Big Push" ! And we gathered around the old battery quartet and 
sang those songs we loved so much. A dizzy night again, every half 
hour another false alarm for gas. Corporal Lasher almost had apo- 
plexy when awakened by the gas claxon and he couldn't locate his gas 
mask under the caisson. 

Thursday, the 15th, was a peach of a day, hot and sticky, perfect 
weather for flies. The picture will long remain with us that Lieuten- 

18 



ant Burden made at noon mess trying to eat bread and jam without 
getting it full of flies, by wrapping his head in a bundle of pink mos- 
quito netting and sticking the jam under it, in his wild efforts to evade 
the hungry pests. 

In the P. M. we were notified two guns were going into position. 
They left at 7 P. M., the first and second guns under Sergeants Mc- 
Henry and Jacobson. and were led into position by Captain Delanoy 
and Lieutenant Nissley. There were clouds of dust along the road, 
the only place we ever encountered that so much heralded plague of 
the artillery. 

The incessant rumble of the artillery on our left slowly became more 
and more distinct. A hell of a battle was going on in our adjacent 
sector. As we neared Chery and passed through it, the Boche began 
shelling. There was quite a lot of sneezing gas in the air. We had 
to put our masks on and one piece not being able to see the turn in 
the road went straight on ahead towards the German lines till Nugent 
stopped it. 

We relieved the 16th U. S. Artillery and no sooner had we gotten 
intO' position, packs hardly off our backs, than we got a call for "Bar- 
rage," and it was repeated several times throughout the night. It was 
our first real battle. Jerry was putting 'em over, too. Shells were 
falling all around us, but not within 300 yards, and he gave us plenty of 
sneezing gas. 

The evening of August 16th the 2d platoon under Sergeants Tingle 
and McCormack escorted by Captain Derby arrived amid severe bom- 
bardment of Chery and the crossroads. 

Our O. P. was on Lesprey Farm. Shells were falling continually 
round us and at night we got a good deal of mustard gas. 

Saturday the telephone lines were heavily shelled by the Boche, 
causing continual work at repairing same. We had more gas on and 
off during the day and occasionally their vicious time H. E. high over- 
head. There were plenty of splinters flying about at all times and we 
were ordered to enlarge our two by two dugout so that ultimately 
everybody could sleep under ground. Lieutenant Derby told the tele- 
phone detail to deepen their dugout a bit and they immediately com- 
plied, but soon hit upon bones, and then ribs and finally a hoof. They 
found they had constructed their dugout right over the spot where 
someone had hurried a horse, so they quickly threw back again a few 
inches of the newly disturbed earth on the dead horse, calmly lay their 
blankets down on top and let it go at that. It was easier than digging 
a new dugout. 

Sunday, the 18th, we pulled off a couple of barrages before break- 
fast. More gas and continual shelling of the woods just to our right 
and the little farmhouse used as a first aid station about 500 yards in 
front of our position. We got quite a little gas at night. 

Monday, the 19th, Captain Delanoy and Sergeant McKenna were 
wounded at the O. P. during a heavy shelling. We received our first 
American mail since Lorraine front. Captain Derby in charge of us 
now. 

Thui:sday, the 20th, we did more than our usual firing and got more 
gas in return and more shelling all around us. At night we had our 
masks on from six to eight hours. We had been getting only two 
meals a day. breakfast anywhere from 8.30 to 10.30 and dinner about 

19 



2.30 to 4 P. M., according to when the ration cart arrived with the 
food. Captain Derby now arranged with the echelon to send us hot 
coffee and bread every night at 10 P. M. and it certainly was a bless- 
ing, providing we could get down to the wagon in time before the 
hash-hounds in the first section had grabbed all the eats. 

Wednesday, the 21st, the battery had a good day, firing 700 rounds 
in all, 200 ofVhich were gas shells— and we were happy. We were 
contented only when we were firing our pieces. Two of our guns 
kept up an harassing fire all night. 

Thursday we continued the fire of the preceding night with about 
600 rounds. Things began to look serious for us. Barrage calls from 
the infantrv were getting frequent. From 9.30 A. M. to 2.30 P. M. 
we fired five barrages, and then began cutting our range down. 

In the afternoon we got word of our counter-attack on a large scale 
and at 4.30 P. M. we opened the attack. There was not a moment's 
rest imtil 11.30 P. M., by which time our battery had fired 3,068 shots. 
Our guns were terribly hot, so hot that the paint blistered and boiled 
on the barrels. 

At 12.10 A. M. we got orders to re-commence firing and with short- 
ened ranges. We had to dig away the little mound of dirt on the 
edge of the machine gun trench in front of us to be able to fire at 
the required elevation and got to it eagerly. We fired all day 
Friday and up to midnight had gotten off 1,655 shots, a total 
of 4,723 rounds in 31>2 hours of practically unbroken fire. One by 
one our guns were rested for 15 minutes and cooled by pouring buckets 
of cold water through the barrels. Everyone from buck to sergeant 
helped carry the ammunition from the road to the gun position. 

Saturday, the 24th, we did our first firing at 12.05 A. M. There 
came a verbal call for barrage. We got six rounds off (per gun) and 
then the barrage was stopped by orders. Ten minutes later the call 
was repeated by telephone and we completed our barrage in quick 
order. We have since learned that the second barrage caught the 
Germans coming out of the trenches and cut them up severely. They 
had come to the attack thinking our first barrage had ended. All day 
we fired 759 rounds. We got more gas at night and it was raining. 
Chery got heavy shelling as usual and six men were killed there in 
the Red Cross station. We gave the Germans harassing fire all night 
and felt better for it. 

Sunday, the 25th, the battery had a soft day, 472 shots, spent in 
normal barrages, counter battery work and retaliatory fire. The night 
was cool and rainy and we had a gas attack for one hour. Benny 
Polack again carried coffee to Lieutenant Nissley at the O. P. at night. 
He fell in a straddle trench in the darkness on the way up and turned 
his job down, complaining to the lieutenant that he didn't want to do 
it again. 

Monday we discovered that during the night the Boche had put 8 
direct hits on the road between Chery and on our position and had 
also knocked down the church steeple at Chery. This was a busy day 
for the telephone detail. 

Tuesday, the 27th, we continued our barrages and counter-battery 
work, firing a total of 592 shots. We repeated a normal barrage three 
times in rapid succession just after daybreak. At night we got mus- 

20 



tard gas, but were quite accustomed to it now and thought nothing 
of it. 

Wednesday, the 28th, the boys at the echelon received their July 
pay. The firing battery got off 385 rounds and called it a day's work. 
But the telephone men had a busy time of it, day and night work on 
the lines and the boys had several narrow escapes from shells. 

Thursday the firing battery received their pay, but there was no 
place to spend it. We amused ourselves with some counter-battery 
work — 100 shots — for which we had to dig our heads off to get our 
anti-craft elevation. And then the officers would devise a scheme for 
winning the war by shooting 900 mils to the wrong side of our normal 
line of fire and we had to dig all over again and in solid rock, too. 
The 4th piece was particularly fortunate in having the good luck to 
strike solid granite to dig through. All four gun pits had enough 
rock, but the pit of the 4th piece resembled a stone quarry when they 
got through. In the evening Sergeant Schwitchenberg again came up 
with the fourgon wagon. This made his tenth successive night trip 
to our position and he has had some pretty close calls along the roads. 
The past few nights we had a beautifully clear moonlight and the 
drivers coming up from the echelon with chow and wire netting had 
anything but an enjoyable trip through gas and sheel fire. 

Friday, the 30th, we again had counter-battery work and one 
hour's gas. Last night two Camembert cheeses had come up in the 
wagon for one of the boys and by mistake had been put in the officers' 
dugout. Captain Derby spent a miserable night insisting that a rat 
or something worse had crawled into his quarters and died. In the 
morning the cheese was discovered and the Captain immediately got 
rid of it by dispatching one cheese to Lieutenant Nissley at the O. P. 
and the other to its proper owner. 

It started raining early in the morning of Saturday, the 31st. We 
had barrages and counter-battery work, 245 rounds, and it was becom- 
ing more evident that the Boche gas was dwindling in frequency and 
strength. Corporal Hovey took the G. S. cart up with a German pill 
box to the O. P. under severe shelling, and he wasn't a bit sorry when 
he got back. 

Sunday, September 1st, we fired our last normal barrage at 10.30 
A. M., and then continued with counter-battery work. At about 2.30 
P. M. we thought it was all over with us when Jerry started dropping 
shells right on top of us and our gun position. They had the exact 
range. The first one was a dud and hit squarely among us. It would 
have killed ten men had it gone off. There were six more that did 
explode, all within a radius of 25 yards of our guns. One fell in the 
306th Machine Gun trench, 10 yards in front of us, killing three and 
wounding seven. That none of our battery was killed was a miracle. 
In a few minutes it was all over and our firing continued, as usual, 
totalling 350 rounds. Cheese and chocolate was received for our can- 
teen and which we divided equally among the sections. At night the 
gas was very slight. 

Monday, September 2d, we fired only 172 shots in counter-battery 
work and we had a chance to go down to the water trough and take 
a bath — while the Boche shells were breaking on the crest of the hill 
not far away. 

A new position had been picked out for us yesterday in case of 

21 



renewed shelling of our present position, and camouflage nets set up. 
This morning it was discovered that a German 210 had gone through 
the net and tore a big hole in the ground just where our gun would 
have been. The boys at the echelon were entertained at night by 
the band of the 308th Engineers. Jerry broke up the party, however, 
by appearing on the scene in a war chariot and dropping a little con- 
fetti. 

Tuesday, the 3d, we had counter-battery work — 265 rounds and a 
little gas in the air. It was reported the Germans are beginning to 
retreat and they certainly made desperate but unsuccessful efforts to 
cover the movement of their troops by bringing down our observation 
balloons. Air fights had been frequent, but now the skies were speck- 
led with bristling, sputtering machines and we witnessed some inter- 
esting battles. Fires were burning behind the German lines most of 
the night and we knew their retreat was imminent. 

Wednesday, September 4th, we fired only in the morning, at long 
range, 72 shots. We received word about 3 P. M. to advance. The 
echelon broke camp and moved forward in twenty minutes. We left 
our excess equipment behind at the gun position and towards evening 
pulled our guns out and harnessed up. We remained all night in 
march formation in a drizzling cold rain, without any sleep. The 
roads were blocked and it was 3 A. M. when we started forward pass- 
ing through St. Martin and Villa Savoy. 

We crossed the Vesle at 5 A. M. (Thursday) and kept going. 
Everywhere was visible the "Price of Honor" — our unburied dead. 
They lay along the whole route, some terribly mangled, others as calm 
and serene as in sleep. We had a salmon and hardtack breakfast in 
an open field, rested for an hour as our horses had had a hell of a 
time pulling through the mud and shell holes in the roads and then 
continued on passing through Fismette under heavy shelling from the 
Boche. We remained in the open roads, broad daylight under con- 
tinual observation by enemy aeroplanes until 2 P. M. We arrived at 
battery position about 6 P. M. and started digging. Moved a quarter 
of a mile to new battery position at 8 P. M. and began an all night 
shift of digging. Privates George and Carson were gassed in German 
dugouts and left for the hospital. 

Friday, September 6th, the line was laid to the infantry trenches. 
We had our first hot meal in 48 hours. Somehow our kitchen always 
managed to get lost. It was some night. Jerry was upstairs drop- 
ping lights, star shells. He put one directly over us. Again we were 
saved by a miracle. He dropped his bombs just to the rear of us, 
between the echelon and our position. 

Saturday the rain began and for a stretch of six successive days 
and nights it rained on and off — mostly on — us. Today was a veri- 
table cloudburst, and everybody slept in the mud and water. Sergeant 
Bohanan was put in charge of the first section, while Sergeant Mc- 
Henry was given his "Coney Island" barker job, acting as execeutive 
at the guns. For nearly a m.onth we were short two officers. All the 
work devolved upon Captain Derby and Lieutenant Nissley to figure 
data and ranges. Our problems were such that called for instant com- 
putation. We tried to register, getting about 30 shots off, but ob- 
servation was too difficult and it had to be given up for another day. 

We were some army! We stole everything in sight, from a piece 

22 



of tin to the side of a house and got away with it by calling it "sal- 
vaging." Anything you'd see that you would like, just take it — it's 
yours — "salvaged." And maybe we didn't become experts in a short 
while ! It was wonderful. Put a bunch of men out there in the bar- 
renness and desolation of war-beridden France, leave 'em to their 
own initiative to find the necessities of life, and we don't know where 
it comes from, but they'll soon have everything that belongs to the 
comfort of a home, from a mattress to an egg-beater! 

Sunday, the 8th, was still raining and the linemen had great diffi- 
culty in maintaining communication over the long lines to the infan- 
try. We fired 316 rounds all day. 

Monday, the 9th, we fired our barrages and did some counter-bat- 
tery work, totalling 186 shots. The rain still kept up and it was a 
tough time trying to keep our sleeping quarters dry. 

Tuesday we registered, the weather cleared a bit. One of the guns 
fired fifty semi-steel and never could the O. P. locate one of them. We 
got off a little counter-battery and harassing fire totalling 186 rounds. 
Lieutenants Taylor and Hill — regular fellows — joined the battery to- 
day. At night plenty of shelling on the crest just in front of us, and 
"beaucoup" rain all night. 

Wednesday, the 11th, we fired 440 rounds getting our first normal 
barrage off at 7.30 P. M. There was lots of trouble on the lines again 
caused by shell fire. 

Drivers had their share of the dirty work at this front, working 
day and night, bringing food and ammunition from the echelon up 
the steep slopes to our battery position under constant shell fire from 
the Germans, 

Thursday, the 12th, we had more rain and more mud, fired 208 
rounds during the day and got all the chance we wanted to sleep in 
the slush at night. 

Friday, the 13th, and raining — but none of us got killed. Only 75 
rounds today. 

Saturday was a grand day. We did some real fighting again like 
the big day at Chery. Just before daybreak our guns opened up and 
fired for twelve hours without a let-up, the battery getting off 3,200 
rounds. The weather favored us, too. It was the first sunny day in 
a week, and during the hurry call to the echelon for more ammuni- 
tion, every available man, driver, spare cannoneer, or non-com — all did 
their damndest, passing the ammunition up the steep slope from the 
road to the gun position. 

Sunday, the 15th, we learned we were going to be relieved for cer- 
tain in the P. M. The combat train pulled out of the echelon at 3 
P. M., starting back along the road through Fismes. While passing 
through the road the Huns began shelling just ahead of us. The car- 
riages were turned around and had to come back through Fismes and 
go around by the other road. Some of the other batteries lost quite 
a few horses by shell fire, but again we had our streak of luck with 
us and no one was injured. The guns pulled out at 7 P. M. relieved 
by the Italians. We met the combat train along the road and trav- 
elled all night. Jerry bombed the roads in a wonderfully clear moon- 
light and again the regiment lost some horses. Passed through Fismes, 
Chery, Travegney, Coulouges and Cohan. 

23 



Just about daybreak of Monday, the 16th, we went into camp in 
the woods near Cierges. We got a few hours' sleep. We were paid 
for the month of August. Harnessed up at 6.30 and waited in woods. 
Pulled out at 10.30 P. M. 

Had another all night march, going through Goussacourt, St. 
Geminee Passy. We crossed the Marne near Mareail le Port just 
after daybreak and camped in a stubblefield — Chene la Reins. Tues- 
day, the 17th, we spent the day there, packed up about 6 P. M. and 
then the order to leave was cancelled. Forty men with their packs were 
sent over to the headquarters detachment. We lay down to catch a 
little sleep just as it started to rain. Called at 2 A. M. (Wednesday) 
and began our march at 4 A. M, We were now passing through coun- 
try unscathed by the war. Wonderful vineyards walled the roads, and 
the boys, tired, wan and thirsty, ate ravishly the handful of grapes 
taken on the march. It was well on towards noon that our weary 
horses were made to pull up to the top of the long, steep hill overlook- 
ing Avize, and we camped in the woods along the road. While the 
cooks were trying to prepare us some corned willy, most of us paid 
a visit to the town — Avize — and bought lots of eats and "vin." It was 
a real Champagne town and soon everybody was more or less drunk. 
Corporal Goodwin had somebody's goat for a while and John Foray 
slept in the cemetery all night. It was our first chance to get a drink 
since going to the front in August and the stuff had double effect as 
we were tired and empty-stomached. 

We had a good night's sleep, though it rained continually and most 
of us did not have our shelter-halves pitched. We were aroused about 
3.30 A. M. 

Thursday, the 19th, turned all the carriages around a couple of 
times first in one direction and then in another and finally got going 
in the right direction at 5 A. M. It was necessary in order to hide 
our worn out uniforms and dilapidated appearance to don overcoats 
or slickers on the march before entering any towns. There was a long 
halt in Avize and when we started again we were a sight for the Gods. 
Every man was stocked to the limit of his carrying capacity with 
honest-to-goodness bread, sardines, cheese and champagne. It was 
another entire day's hike, the battalion losing the route. Reached our 
destination at 5 P. M. Camped in a large open field — Farm de Notre 
Dame (near Cheniers) and ten kilometers from Chalons. Sergeant 
Bohannan, still dizzy from Avize, right-dressed the tent-pitchers to 
the great amusement of everybody present. Wild and varied were the 
rumors afloat. Chalons was in all probability our rest camp. Huge 
barracks had been constructed for the housing of men and horses, and 
we would draw new uniforms and equipment, get baths there and 
have a good month's vacation in the city itself. We went to sleep 
happy — particularly that Captain Derby told us to throw away our 
aiming stakes and camouflage poles. We were not going to another 
front without a rest, as the pessimistic ones had preached. 

Showers were frequent during the night and morning. We were 
aroused by bugle at 3.30 A. M. Had an earlv breakfast in the rain 
and on our way at 6 A. M. But we went directly away from. Chalons. 
Something was wTong — and our dope changed into doubt. We made 
good time on the march and made camp in a field at La Cheppe about 
2.30 P. M. Pitched tents and spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning 

24 



material and repacking wagons. We bought some real eats in the 
town, got a good night's sleep. 

Up at 7 A. M. the next morning (Saturday, September 21st) and 
again repacked the wagons and cleaned material. We left our field 
at 3 P. M. and hiked through Pogny, Franceville, Coupyville, Le 
Fresne and reached Bussy-le-Repos at 2 A. M. 

We camped in a little orchard in the village. It was raining cats 
and dogs and after daybreak some of us took refuge in a deserted 
Y. M. C. A. hut nearby and slept on the tables and floor. It was im- 
possible to buy a thing in the village, reputed as the poorest town in 
France — in contrast to Avize, which we had but shortly left and was 
classed as one of the richest and cleanest towns in the country. We 
pulled out at 7 P. M. and marched all night in the pouring rain. We 
made camp at 5 A. M. in the thick woods alongside the road about 
one kilometer from Chatrices. Everybody was soaking wet, cold and 
hungry. The rain had gone through our slickers and our clothes were 
wringing wet. No one pitched tents — we were too tired. We con- 
tented ourselves with rolling in our blankets and shelter-halves, and 
threw ourselves on the ground, dead tired. After two or three hours' 
sleep the horses were groomed and then we had a joy party making 
pancakes for ourselves with the dough that Larue spoiled by knocking 
the can over. We were informed in a little speech by the B. C. that 
we were nearer the front than we had imagined and would go into 
position in the line direct from here. "Our rest is at an end," he said 
with a smile, and we heaved a sigh of relief. The front was better 
than this hiking. At 7 P. M. we started out marching and kept it up 
all night. 

We passed through St. Menehould and arrived at battery position 
in the Argonne Forest at 6 A. M. (Tuesday, the 24th), near La 
Harazee. We were greeted with a warm reception by the Boche — 
the scream and bursting of the big shells round us celebrating our en- 
trance into the Argonne front. We were given no time for sleep. 
To work at once, on our gun-pits, ammunition pit, and shelter trench. 
Luckily, we had any number of old French dugouts in the vicinity, 
and at night while half of the crews worked the others caught a few 
hours' sleep on their wet, cold blankets. 

The next day was spent at hard labor enlarging our pits to their 
1600-mill sweep and as soon as night set in every avialable man got 
to work with brand new axes borrowed from the engineers. By mid- 
night we had cut down a good part of the Argonne forest, permitting 
us to fire from our position at the required short ranges. At our bat- 
tery position, tired as everyone was, there was no chance to sleep after 
midnight. The battle was to open at 2.20 A. M. and ammunition was 
arriving every minute and had to be carried back from the road to 
the gun position. Everybody was stepping round lively. In the P. C. 
both Captain Derby and Lieutenant Nissley without sleep for 48 hours, 
broke down under the strain of ceaseless figuring and reconnaisance, 
and fell asleep across the little wooden table with the dim light of 
the low burning candle in the comer, and left Lieutenant Hill to figure 
his first barrage. At the last minute our battery received orders to 
cover the entire battalion section, which required a further shift of 
three hundred or more mils and while the section chiefs were going 
crazy trying to get the pits completed for the new laying, Lieutenant 

25 



Hill, watch in hand, emerged from the P. C. and after the preliminary 
caution that it was one minute to firing time, began : "Ready — Fire" ! 
and not a gun responded. The first piece had slipped off the platform 
and rolled down into the trail pit and the second piece was busily en- 
gaged chopping down a tree about two feet thick that was only five 
feet away and directly in the path of our new line of fire. The third 
piece had its trail in the ammunition pit and the fourth was busy tear- 
ing down their beautifully constructed sandbag and log roof and 
walls, as it interfered with the muzzle of the gun. 

The swearing that we indulged in for the next ten minutes before 
we got firing was good for our constitutions, but not very good for 
our souls. Our guns started. At about the same time Hell itself 
was turned loose on earth. The battle that was to put our division 
forever in history — the Argonne — was on its way — opened by the 
"Million Dollar Barrage." The noise was so terrific that one had to 
holler at the top of his voice to the man standing next to him to make 
himself heard. The first shot from McHenry's piece carried away the 
frog telephone line that had been put up during the night directly in 
front of his piece. 

We fired without a break from 2.40 A. M. to 3.30 P. M., getting 
off 2,725 rounds. As the morning went on and the rate of fire de- 
creased, the exhausted crews were given a chance of getting a couple 
of hours' sleep. 

In the P. M., after waiting impatiently for the limbers to come up 
from the echelon, the 2d platoon went forward with Lieutenants Niss- 
ley and Taylor. Passed through La Harassee and up a steep hill to 
the east of it. Lieutenant Nissley had no map on hand and the two 
guns had moved unbeknown to him, to within 2,000 yards of our front 
line. We slept all night on the ground by the pieces while waiting for 
orders — with machine guns and snipers' bullets occasionally whizzing 
bv. rhe G. S. cart from the echelon had failed to reach us with food, 
and all we had was three hardtacks apiece before going to sleep. Lieu- 
tenant Nissley took a little joy trip with Ken Miller to the infantry 
trenches to get our targets from the major. They had an exciting 
time crawling back through mud, barbed wire and machine gun fire, 
and if it liad not been for Miller the chances are neither would have 
gotten back alive. 

Sergeant Smith left us to attend Officers' Training School. 

In the morning of the 27th, Friday, while the 1st platoon was 
getting off S86 rounds, the crews of the 2d platoon were trying to 
grub a little food from the infantry kitchens that lined the road at 
La Harasee. The 1st platoon pulled out of position about 4.30 P. M. 
and moved forward to a new position among the dead trees just to 
the east of Le Four de Paris. The 2d platoon was imable to fire from 
its position on account of the heavy forest, and late at night was or- 
dered back to the other guns. They joined the battery about 3 A. M. 
It was a hell of a position for our guns. The ground was spotted with 
shell holes two yards apart, and in trying to pull the pieces into posi- 
tion, one of Corporal Spenzola's white horses fell into a shell crater 
and simply would not try to get out. The poor horse was dead tired, 
and as this was his first chance to rest in a long while, he was con- 
tented to choose the comfort of lying in a shell hole to standing up in 
harness. We fired 145 shots during the day here. 

26 



Sunday, the 29th, we had some barrages and harassing fire, total- 
Hng 684 shots. The scarcity of horses was now beginning to be felt. 
Half of the stuff that we had to leave behind yesterday was brought up 
only this P. M. and the few good horses we did have we worked to 
death hauling ammunition. We also received a little new clothing to- 
day — we were badly in need of it. 

Monday, the 30th, our limbers and horses were up to battery posi- 
tion at daybreak. We rolled packs, pulled our guns out from among 
the shell holes to the road, everything put in readiness to move for- 
ward, and then the order was cancelled. This stunt was repeated at 
odd intervals during the day. And every time the darn order to move 
was cancelled we had to rush our guns back in position and rip off 
a dozen or two rounds at some pesky machine gun nest that was hold- 
ing up the advance. During this game of "tag, you're it," the 3d piece 
was always the winner, being the first gun in the battalion to report 
in firing position and "in order," due principally to the physical ef- 
forts of Lieutenant Taylor. 

We remained in this position exactly one week more. It was dur- 
ing this week that the "Lost Battalion" of the 307th and 308th were 
sticking it out in their death trap, and every day from Monday, Sep- 
tember 30th to Sunday, October 6th, it was practically day and night 
firing, barrage and zone firing and exterminating fire on machine gun 
nests. There was little rest for anyone these seven days, firing in all 
a total of 4,516 rounds for the battery. We had plenty of rain, too, 
which didn't make things a bit pleasant, as our dugouts would have an 
inch or two of water in the bottoms. The mud and slush on the long 
narrow staircases made it easy for anyone to slip and fall in it. 

Otir fire was particularly accurate and destructive and was instru- 
mental in bringing upon our heads two letters of commendation, one 
from the Corps Commander to the Division Commander and another 
from the Regimental C. O. to the Battery Commander, which bore the 
Major's personal endorseent and commendation. Both of these docu- 
ments are reproduced in the appendix page. 

Back at the echelon our horses were dying so fast that First Ser- 
geant Dooley had to appoint someone to handle the job of burying 
them. Corporal Hovey was elected official undertaker and his detail 
of grave-diggers had plenty of work. 

But outside of burying horses and grooming those that weren't 
quite ready to be buried, echelon life was not so bad at that time. 
Lanquets and champagne dinners were often held in the little elephant- 
ironed orderly room and some of our purely local talent would help to 
cniertain the guests while the crash and roar of the bursting shells 
and booming guns would be drowned in laughter and songs. 

October 6th, Lieutenant Hill left us to join the infantry as our 
liaison officer. Varied and exciting have been his adventures, in that 
capacity, but he. never tells of his many close calls to death. We have 
tried to get the personal side of his story from him, but all we could 
learn was, to put it in his own language, that he "ran all over France, 
ind got damn good and wet." 

The night of October 6th the firing battery moved to Vienne le 
Chateau, better known to us as "German Village." We pulled into 
position about 3 A. M. October 7th in a dark night and the pieces had 
to be manhandled three or four hundred yards through soft, muddy 

27 



soil covered with shell holes half full of water. In trying to bring in 
one of the fourgon wagons over the narrow plank bridge that spanned 
an old trench in front of our position, at Lieutenant Nissley's sugges- 
tion, the lead and swing teams were changed, and the wagon promptly 
fell overboard into the ditch pulling the off horse with it. Lieutenant 
Nissley admitted, for the first time, that he was wrong, and Sergeant 
S' hwitchenberg went ahead with the rest of the train. 

When daylight came we discovered our position was a "cuckoo." 
Wonderful German dugouts nearby made of solid concrete and iron 
with electric lights, stoves and even bath tubs. We dug our gun-pits 
and lay in a store of ammunition. But in the three days we were here 
we did not fire a shot — the Boche kept pulling out of range. 

Tuesday we all took baths in the German bath tubs — real hot water. 
Lordy ! what wonders a little water can do ! It began to rain pitch- 
forks at night, so, naturally, even though we didn't fire, they had the 
section-chiefs get up and report to the P. C. a couple of times in the 
downpour. It was unbelievably dark, and the P. C. could only be found 
by wandering around about fifteen minues floundering in the mud, and 
then for consolation the sergeants would get hell for taking so long 
to report. 

Peace rumors were afloat Wednesday, the 9th, and the boys were 
beginning to believe them. Got ready to move forward at 5 P. M. and 
the order was cancelled at the last minute. There were several "peace 
celebrations" that night, the one of the most social prominence being 
held in Sergeant Anderson's dugout (please take note, he always had 
a dugout) and the invited guests and entertainers consisted of Cor- 
porals "L. I. Farmer" Horton and "Shoe Lace" Spiegel, and Sergeants 
"Black Jack" McHenry, "Whizz-Bang" Garry and "Silk" Jacobson. 
Said party lasted until 11.30 P. M., whereupon the guests went to sleep 
on the hard but inviting floor. 

Thursday we were aroused at 4.30 A, M. Had a wee bite and 
pulled out. Travelled all day along shell- torn and muddy roads. Ger- 
man signs painted in big black letters on huge board frames confronted 
us on all sides. The Boche had left here only yesterday and the roads 
and underbrush were spotted with dead Frenchmen. We pulled into 
position near Lancon late in the afternoon, laid our pieces and to bed 
at 8 P. M., pitching our shelter tents in the camouflage of a little wood, 
while the Boche were shelling about a half mile to the right of us. 

Before dawn on Friday, the 11th, the first platoon went forward 
with Lieutenant Nissley on his famous "pigeon shooting" contest. 
After having been assured by some American infantry colonel that the 
guns could go right on into Grand Pre, he learned from a French offi- 
cer that the Americans had not yet succeeded in even crossing the 
river. After some close shaves the two guns were gotten into position 
and in the week they stayed there did some of the most remarkable 
shooting in the war, bringing forth high comment upon this successful 
undertaking. 

The second platoon under Captain Derby pulled up a steep hill to 
within 3,000 meters of our front line, a bit S. W. of Grand Pre. The 
Boche was 'way in on our left flank and there was "beaucoup" ma- 
chine gun fire on the hill directly to our left. Big shells were dropping 
by the carload. Shelter tents were pitched in the pouring rain and the 
crews worked in shifts all night digging a safety trench. 

28 



Both platoons stayed in their respective positions exactly one week, 
until the evening of October 17th. The firing was mainly at special 
targets, such as the church steeple in Grand Pre, German trucks and 
wagon trains along the roads, and exterminating fire on machine gun 
positions. 

Captain Prentiss, in command of a machine gun battalion, visited 
Captain Derby the night of October 12th and brought rumors of Ger- 
many's consent to withdraw to the Rhine and sign peace. 

We managed to salvage two nice new camp telephones that be- 
longed to somebody else, but it helped the battery out of a hole. 

Lieutenant Hill lost everything he owned and over and above that, 
Captain Derby's overcoat, while advancing with the infantry. He tried 
to salvage some blankets to keep warm at night from the bodies of 
dead Frenchmen lying around, but found the blankets were about the 
size of table napkins. Finally he succeeded in getting a good one out 
of a German pack. 

The morning of October 14th Private Whitman, while acting as 
runner to the infantry, had both legs blown off during a violent gas 
attack. Gormley, who was with him, removed his mask to give Whit- 
man "first aid" and carried him to a place of shelter. Gormley was 
gassed seriously in saving his friend and later was himself taken to the 
hospital, receiving a divisional citation for his brave conduct. The 
same day, during some three hours' steady fire, the 4th piece, under 
Sergeant McCormack, blew up. Again Battery F had its marvelous 
luck with it, and by a miracle no one was even so much as scratched. 

Tuesday, the 15th, we received a sweet, comforting little note which 
read to the effect that we should not believe the war is over, but to 
fight our damndest to bring it to a close before winter sets in. The 
3d gun being alone in our main battery position, we received orders to 
put it in position in Battery D's line, as they were also short two guns. 
This left all the shooting to our 1st platoon, but they made up for the 
missing pieces. The telephone detail had the extreme delight here of 
having a French caisson come across the field and roll up about 500 
metres of their line to the Battalion O. P., which had to be immediately 
replaced while firing was going on. It is worthy of mention to say 
Corporal Schaeffer stated that he counted 15 splices in this line on the 
last day, all of which were bare, owing to the impossibility of procur- 
ing tape, and that part of the line was composed of captured German 
wire. From this we might gather an inkling of the trials and diffi- 
culties that befell our plucky, resourceful crew of telephonists and 
linesmen. Quite a bunch of gas was being sent over by the Germans 
and a few G. I. cans came down pretty close. But we did no digging. 
It was pouring rain and we lay in our little pup tents, laughing and 
smoking as it was raining too hard for aeroplanes. We even lit 
candles at night. Nothing could dampen our wonderful cheerfulness. 

Thursday, the 17th, we tried to dry out our blankets and other 
things with the help of small bonfires. We were relieved in the eve- 
ning by the 78th Division. 

The 1st platoon went on ahead of the 3d piece, which followed in 
Battery D's line of march and all three sections met at our echelon 
near La Harasee. It was a tough night. It was raining, ice cold and 
the roads were filled with slush. We hiked for ten long hours — most 
of us with packs, and only a short halt along the road. We waited, 

29 



shivering and wet, while the echelon was roused and packed up, and 
when the captain got through fuming, we renewed our march just as 
day was breaking. We made our camp near La Chalade at 8 A. M., 
making it a hike of nearly 32 kilometers over night. Those of us who 
didn't have to go back with the teams to help move up the echelon, or 
start the kitchen work, threw our wet blankets on the ground, and 
rolled into them for two hours' sleep. There was nothing but corned 
willy to eat all day. We were assigned to numerous little dugouts in 
the edge of the forest, and the boys were asleep by 6 P. M. 

Saturday, the 19th, we had reveille at 6.30 A. M., first in months. 
We immediately got to work after our corned willy and coffee break- 
fast cleaning material, grooming and feeding horses and checking 
personal equipment. Our battery canteen opened in the afternoon, and 
we bought lots of wonderful stuff — Camembert, butter, sardines, cigars 
and cigarettes. Again we pulled under the cover early — 7 P. M., find- 
ing everybody in bed except the luckless guards. 

Sunday, the 20th, we got out in a pouring rain to hold reveille. 
Lieutenants Nissley and Taylor left on their furlough at 2 P. M. Three 
guns, the 1st, 2d and 3d pieces, left for overhauling at the Ordnance 
Department. Three men of each section accompanied the guns and 
hiked in the rain to Les Iselettes. Got pretty good meals there and a 
nice room and bunk to sleep in. They returned at noon Tuesday, the 
20th, to the battery and found the battery getting deloused and new 
equipment issued. It was just dark enough in the evening when Bat- 
tery F's turn came to take its shower bath of twenty drops of cold 
water to enable those who had stood in line naked and shivering in the 
open to duck back in the woods and don their new underclothes with- 
out enjoying the "'mock" shower bath. 

Wednesday, the 23d, after reveille, we had close order drill, gas 
drill, inspections and other things that make a soldier "having his rest" 
wish so hard he was back again at the front. 

The Liberty Players gave two shows at the big stone church Wed- 
nesday afternoon and evening. The night performance was inter- 
rupted by one of Jerry's air raids. While the anti-craft were popping 
away the lights were doused in the church. In about fifteen minutes 
the hum of Jerry's engines had ceased, lights were put on again and 
the show continued. 

Thursday, the 24th, we were notified we are going to move. Not 
for our expected rest — but back to the line. The order was cancelled 
at dark and we had to unroll our packs and sleep in our old holes. 
The canteen sold lots of stuff today, and we laid in a stock of cheese, 
"ardines and honest-to-God real candy. 

Reveille Friday, the 25th, and same pleasant routine in the morning, 
and turned in our saddle bags. At noon mess we were notified to 
move out immediately for the front. Orders issued for everybody to 
carry packs. We hiked till an hour after dark and then echeloned in 
a brambly wood just as it started to rain. Pitched our shelter halves 
and got a bite of cold corned willy, bread and no coffee. 

At 4 A. M. Saturday, October 26th, the four section chiefs and 
three men of each gim crew along with the camouflage detail were 
awakened to go forward to our new firing position. It was cold and 
dark, still raining, and with a little coffee and bacon as a starter we 
hiked all day until 2 P. M., the main battery following close behind 

30 



the advance detail and echeloning at Chatel-Chehery. The firing bat- 
tery went into position late in the afternoon in a weeded, muddy hol- 
lov/, halfway between Connay and Marcq — a perfect gas trap. The 
gun crews bummed some good mess from the 60th C. A. kitchen, about 
five hundred yards from our position. Work was started at digging 
our gun-pits and trail logs gathered in. Corporal Kehoe, Labreque 
and others of the camouflage squad worked laboriously getting our 
coverirg up, as secrecy of our position was the one big thing. The 
drive was planned to start in four or five days and our safety and the 
success of the undertaking lay mainly in our keeping the enemy un- 
aware of the arrival of new forces. 

Late at night we knocked off work and scattered around, blankets 
in arms, to find a spot that was dry enough to lay down on. Captain 
Derby and Lieutenant Hill arrived early next morning (about 4.30 
A. M. S'.mday, October 27th) and couldn't find a soul. The sleepers 
were well camouflaged, a bit higher up on the slope of the hill back 
of us, and got hell because they didn't sleep on the wet mud alongside 
of the gun pits as directed. Ammunition pits and gun pits were com- 
pleted during the day, and our well camouflaged shelter tents were put 
up over our shallow safety trenches dug slightly up the side of the 
hill. We fired 35 shots in registering the battery. 

Monday, the 28th, we were up at daybreak, and at it again. Sand- 
bags arrived and we began building our protection around the gun-pits 
as the ground is so water-soaked that we can't dig in. We strike water 
at 18 to 20 inches down. This is a fine mud-hole. Jerry threw quite a 
few shells over today bursting all around us and getting a bunch of 
"frog" horses. 

Tuesday, the 29th, the detail was busy changing our P. C. about 
five times, and finally settled the matter by getting a f ourgon wagon 
sunk into the ground about 200 yards directly to the rear of No. 4 
piece. Our forward O. P. is just over the edge of the crest in front 
of us overlooking the German front lines, and we can get a good view 
of the coming battle ground. Wednesday, the 30th, the battery fired 
153 shots between 4 and 6 A. M. on some trench system for which the 
data was received shortly after midnight. We took turns during the day 
was received shortly after midnight. We took turns during the day 
going over to the 78th delousing station and taking a hot shower bath 
that was the nearest thing to home in some time. The Salvation Army 
kitchen at Chatel-Chehery celebrated Hallowe'en this evening, one 
night before time, as they expected the big drive to start any minute, 
and the boys wouldn't have the opportunity to stop and take a bite. 
Hot chocolate and crackers and home-made fudge made the evening 
a tempting one to the boys of our echelon and they were all present, 
swapping rumors with a battalion of infantry which the Savlation 
Army had stopped on its way to the trenches and was loading up with 
crackers, nuts and fudge. This happy spot became a regular hang-out 
for the echelon and whenever the first sergeant wanted a detail to 
carry ammunition to the gun position it was necessary to send down 
to the Salvation Army for them. 

Thursday, the 31st, we repeated our fire of yesterday between 4 
and 6 A. M. There was an aeroplane bombardment with American 
propoganda on the German lines telling the Huns that their fight was 



useless. Some of the circulars fell among us and we had a hot time 
trying to read the German print. 

Our aim.ing stake light gave us particular trouble at this stage of 
the game on account of the poor batteries. Carl Schaeffer, the Thomas 
Edison of the telephone detail, put his perpetual-motion energy to work 
and his new contrivance kept things right. 

Our liaison officer was ordered to report to the infantry at once. 
Lieutenant Hill, sick for the last few days, was all in, but he refused 
to let Lieutenant Taylor take his place, and finally succeeded in getting 
Captain Derby to consent to his going in the condition he was in. The 
runner detail Lieutenant Hill took with him consisted of Privates 
Brody, Frances, Gottlieb and Forund. 

November 1st, Friday, at 3.30 A. M., the last big drive began with 
sixty gas shells per gun. Franch and American guns were massed 
together for the final assault and the sky was ablaze with artillery fire. 
We pitched in with H. E. at 3.50 A. M. and kept at it all morning and 
afternoon, our battery getting off 1,444 rounds before firing was sus- 
pended in the late P. M. During the night Jerry shelled the top of the 
crests surrounding us with gas and H. E. and dropped several big ones 
into the basin where we were without getting any of us. 

Saturday, the 2d, we began firing at 5 :50 A. M. Repeated the data 
of the day before on the "L" shaped trench system of the Germans. 
Our infantry then went forward in a gallop, the left flank of the 
Germans now falling back. Our limhers came up shortly after noon, 
and at 4 P. M. we pulled out in a pouring rain. The roads were ter- 
ribly blocked and it took us all night, cold and wet, to go about twelve 
kilometers. We passed through Marcq, St. Juvin and Champignuelle, 
crossing the Aire on a pontoon hastily constructed by the engineers. 
Big fires were burning along the roads, barns, stores and supplies set 
on fire by the retreating Germans, and at our frequent halts we tried 
to dry our wringing wet shoes and clothes. We pulled off the road at 
3.30 A. M. (Sunday) and rested up the horses. We lay down in the 
mud and slept until 5.30 A. M., daylight, and then had a little cold 
coffee and hardtack. At 6 A. M. Lieutenant Nissle}^ and twenty-five 
drivers with their teams left the battery to be attached temporarily to 
the 1st Battalion. The regiment was so seriously short of horses and 
the Germans retreating so rapidly that the only hope of our catching 
them was by the means of leaving one battaloin behind and using the 
good horses of both battalions to get at least some of the guns going 
after themi. 

We hiked two kilometers more taking about five hours to make it 
along the congested roads. We were hungry as wolves and in passing 
some wonderfully cultivated fields the Germans had left behind un- 
touched, we gathered and ate raw turnips and carrots. We pulled into 
Verpel about noon and had the same rations for dinner and super 
as we had for breakfast. Pitched tents and we were in our couches 
at 6 P. M. 

We woke up Monday morning to find it pouring rain again. The 
echelon moved up today and there was quite a commotion in the bat- 
tery over our being turned into an ammunition train because of the 
lack of horses. Cleaned material all afternoon and also some filthy 
billets the Germans had left behind, spotted here and there with 
their dead. 

32 



The next day, Tuesday, the 5th, we moved into the billets, as it 
is continually raining and cold. Another bunch of our boys left to go 
forward as ammunition carriers. 

The rain was violent during the night and early Wednesday morn- 
ing, and through the shell holes in our roof, water poured in on our 
sleeping quarters. Everything was soaking wet. Time hung heavy. 
These were the anxious days at the S. O. S., awaiting news from the 
front. Mysteriously several decks of cards made their appearance in 
our midst and we began a series of high-powered, beaucoup franc, 
black-jack games that would have made many a Wall Street banker sit 
up and take notice. 

Thursday, the 7th, we were up at 4.30, breakfasted 5.15. Made 
our packs, put 'em on our backs and moved forward at 9 A. M. All 
the horses in the 2d Battalion were used to pull the guns alone. We 
hiked all day without a rest or any food, passing through Thenorgues, 
Buzancy, Harricourt, Sommanthe and at 5 P. M. pulled to the very 
top of a steep hill at St. Pierremont. All along our march the roads 
were littered with dead horses, German guns and ammunition dumps, 
left behind in their retreat. We pitched tent in the rain, had a bite, and 
pulled under the covers. 

The next day we moved into billets in the town and began cleaning 
out stables, barns, etc. We had only corned willy and coffee to eat, 
and to help matters it was still pouring rain. 

Saturday, November 9th, was the same, cleaning out some more 
stables and raining all day. Rumors of an armistice with Germany 
expected within two weeks. 

Sunday, the 10th, still raining and still the same poor meals. No 
rations in sight and we are limited to a quarter loaf of bread per man 
for all day. No coffee and only corned willy served with a ration of 
water. More rumors of cessation of hostilities, but the guns still firing 
to our right flank. 

During the morning of Monday, the 11th, it was officially rumored 
that the armistice is signed. Nobody believed it. During the after- 
noon we heard that the wireless station was receiving the different 
paragraphs of the signed documents, but still we would not believe it. 

Tuesday, November 12th, we received official notice of the armis- 
tice. The surprising thing was how easily we all took the news, due, 
no doubt, to the fact that it was hard to believe, hard to realize that 
it was all over. We immediately began betting as to when we would 
get home. It was rumored in the afternoon that Major General Alex- 
ander promised the 77th Division to be on board ship December 2d 
and home for Christmas. Quite a riot over the good news, in spite 
of everybody doubting it. Beastly cold today and we had to move out 
of our billets into the open field in shelter tents as the town had been 
given over to the 305th Infantry. After dark we made a systematic 
search of the town for lumber to make a big bonfire on the top of the 
hill. We sat around the glowing fire and as our wood gave out we 
proceeded to bum up all the chairs in St. Pierremont, wooden, plush 
and otherwise. 

Wednesday and Thursday we were up at 6.15 in the coldest weather 
we've hit in France. Heard that the 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th, 32d and 42d Divi- 
sions remain as the American Army of Occupation and that the 77th 
sails for the U. S. A. about December 4th. Captain Derby went down 

33 



to the divisional ration dump. He procured a 50-pound sack of coffee 
and between a balky horse and a leaky sack he had to get off, hold 
the leaking bag with one hand and walk or half drag his mount all 
the way back to St. Pierremont. We had check roll call at night at 
which the captain had to identify every man personally and account 
for all the missing. 

Friday, the 15th, we were up at 4.30 A. M, and after a nice bite of 
breakfast, harnessed up our pieces. Pulled out of St. Pierremont. 
Hiked through Sommanthe to a little group of farmhouses called War- 
niforet, about three kilometers from Beaumont. We were billetted in 
the houses, stables and barns, and after having nothing to eat all day 
had a really good meal for supper. Our men who had gone up as the 
1st Battalion ammunition train and the runners with Lieutenant Hill 
met us here. 

Saturday, the 16th, we began close order drill. Major Wamvig 
made quite a speech to us on the road about parading. He intimated 
our being in New York soon, and lots of money changed hands on bets 
of our being home for Christmas. 

We had to send eleven men away to the 2d Division going to Ger- 
many. The captain did the square thing of drawing lots among the 
men who had no allotees, and the ones to get stuck were Bill Cheney, 
Red Hinds, Benny Polack, Mottig, Rees, Joseph Williams, Lane, Quig- 
ley, Chapa, Hewitt, Wendolowski. Everybody felt badly over the 
breaking up of the old bunch, and some of the boys shook hands with 
tears in their eyes. 

Sunday was a real day — no formation. The rumor now is that we 
hike to Grand Pre, entrain for Chaumont, parade in Paris and then go 
to our seaport. We were pulled out of bed at 9.30 P. M. to be paid off. 

Monday and Tuesday we had plenty of close order drill. Turned 
in all our horses Monday and Tuesday, sent away all our guns, lim- 
bers, caissons and carriages to Grand Pre, drawn by motor truck. A 
loading detail went along and Sergeant Meagher turned in some fire 
control instruments to the division salvage agent for which he was 
almost courtmartialed. 

Wednesday, the 20th, the battery was up at 4.30, breakfasted at 
5.15 and moved out at 7.30 A. M. Everybody carried their full packs. 
Hiked through Sommanthe, Harricourt, Buzancy, stopping for lunch, 
consisting of one hardtack and a cup of coffee. Our packs were put 
in trucks at Buzancy and we raced the rest of the way on foot, through 
Verpel and on to Beffu. Lieutenant Nissley set a terrific pace and as 
cold as it was, our cooties got a turkish bath. It was just 6 P. M. when 
we reached Beffu and we had covered 32 kilometers since morning. 
After a piece of bread and a cup of coffee, we made our bunks in the 
few buildings left standing but which were well ventilated by shell 
holes. 

Had terrible feed Thursday, nothing but corned willy and no bread. 
We moved out at 1.30 P. M, going about two kilometers to Le Mort 
Homme. We got pretty nice billets and anchored in them eagerly. 

Friday, the 22d, we held a race among the batteries of the 2d Bat- 
talion for a case of oatmeal. Eddie Lynch fell down when Battery F 
had the race won, and we ate corned willy the next morning. 

Saturday, the 23d, we went out on a hike and were shown how 
thoroughly our battery alone had shot up and demolished several farm- 

34 



houses and special targets around Grand Pre. Held retreat with the 
battalion and a review by the major. 

Sunday morning after breakfast we hiked the four kilometers to 
Grand Pre to get a bath. Nothing doing — the boilers not working. Got 
soap and pajamas at the Red Cross. What the hell are we going to do 
with pajamas? Everybody sent cablegrams home from the Red Cross, 
sending Thanksgiving greetings and saying we would be home for 
Christmas. There was a big flapjack game in the evening and Mc- 
Henry was caught in the wreck. 

Monday the drizzle of yesterday turned into regular rain, and Lieu- 
tenant Taylor took us out for a hike in the mud for a couple of hours. 
When we got back the room where the firing sergeants slept was a 
picture. The rain had come through the shell-torn roof, through the 
telephone detail's room upstairs and down into their quarter. When- 
ever anyone walked around upstairs a load of dirt would come down 
from the ceiling above the sergeants and bunks, blankets, floors looked 
like a trail pit in frog-hollow. 

It was still raining Tuesday, the 26th, so we naturally took another 
hike. Had some physical exercises in the P. M. At night there was a 
"klu-klux klan" meeting in the "sergeants' " room with Jake Goodman, 
Jimmie Ecock and Sergeant Dooley. It broke up in a riot. 

Wednesday, the 27th, more rain. All sorts of colonels, lieutenant- 
colonels and majors visited us in three autos. There was an inspection 
of billets and now we know we are going home. Sergeant Schwitchen- 
berg chopped his foot pretty severely with an axe. A dizzy night of 
entertainment with "Whizz-bang" Garry. 

Thursday, the 28th, was Thanksgiving Day. Pouring rain. No 
formations. We had a peach of a dinner. Lamb fricasse, mashed po- 
tatoes, dumplings, rice pudding extraordinaire with real nuts and rai- 
sins in it, apricot pie, coffee, bread, a piece of cheese, chocolate and a 
cigar for each one. Thanksgiving was celebrated till a late hour at 
night in all billets. The rain poured in on top of us on our bunks all 
night, and many of us slept in our raincoats. 

Lieutenant Nissley, at the oflicers' mess, was informed at Thanks- 
giving breakfast by the cook that a bountiful supply of eggs had been 
received. "Niss" ordered some for himself. Toot-de-sweet! The 
major immediately after this entered the room and joined the officer 
at the table. 

"Good morning. Major," said Lieutenant Nissley, getting up and 
gleefully rubbing his hands. "You're just in time. I just ordered some 
eggs for myself. Shall I order some for you?" 

"There'll be no eggs this morning, Nissley. Just cancel that order 
for yourself," the Major gruffly responded. 

"Bring me another plate of hash. Fox," said the Lieutenant hun- 
grily. 

Friday and Saturday it was still raining. It cleared up a bit Sat- 
urday P. M. and Lieutenant Taylor had the battery out in the field 
playing such games as "Whip," "Bounce 'em up," and the race with 
three hop-straddle jumps. At night we tied up our section blanket- 
rolls and put them outdoors expecting an order to move. 

Sunday, December 1st, we were called at 4 A. M. Had breakfast in 
the dark, rolled our packs by candle light, and at 5.40 A. M. were on 
the march to Grand Pre. It was freezing cold. We built huge bon- 

35 



fires at Grand Pre. Hung around without mess until 1 P. M. Were 
then carried by motor trucks to an old German camp called Saalburg 
at Autrey. Brought our guns and carriages down to the station at 
Autry, tied behind trucks. Had a feed at 6.30 P. M., and lay down 
in crummy straw bunks in the prison camp. 

It was a restless and cold night. We were pulled out of our bunks 
at 4 A. M., but did not begin loading material until 10 A. M. Finished 
in quick order. We left Autry at 1 P. M. in U. S. A. box cars. Sev- 
enty men to the car with packs and rations, yet we were all in good 
spirits. Not a wink of sleep all night for anyone. We were piled on 
top of one another, cramped and freezing cold. We were stiff in 
every limb by morning. 

We detrained at Latrecy 6 A. M. (Tuesday, the 3d). Had break- 
fast on the station in a pouring rain. Somebody discovered the Cafe 
de la Gare had Plennesy Triple Star Cognac in bottles, and it was 
flowing like water in short order. Nearly 200 bottles were sold to the 
regiment before the colonel of the M. P.'s got wise and closed the 
cafe up. We hiked about 13 kilometers to Arc-en-Barrois, without 
packs, thank the Lord, and what members of the battery did survive 
the march, pulled into Arc-en-Barrois pickled, canned or stewed. It 
was a banner day for alcoholics in the history of Battery F. We were 
assigned to bunks in wooden barracks placed neatly in a thick, boggy 
mud basin. It was a small but inviting town and we sailed out again 
in search of elixirs to ease the stiffness of our joints and smooth out 
the wrinkles in our frozen stomachs. There followed two days of 
.unrestricted drinking, so long as the joy-rider could pilot himself to 
port — and the orders to the Provost Guard were to let joy be uncon- 
fmed these first three days after our arrival. It was our first chance 
to get something to drink since we hit the front, and the excitement 
of being among civilization again had its share in the panic. 

There were, however, a few arrests for failure to report ship in 
dock after the hike from Latrecy and for some of the more trouble- 
some warriors who wanted to start a republic of their own in rvrc-en- 
Barrois. The battery enjoyed some wonderful meals in town. We 
could buy anything our hearts desired for francs. Roast veal, pork- 
choiis, fried rabbits, chicken, and beefsteaks were in order with beau- 
coup pommes de terre and vin blanc. 

Friday, the 6th, formations began and Lieutenant Nissley took the 
battery out in the P. M. "snipe hunting" for rabbits. There was a 
ferociously wild inspection of quarters, equipment and side-arms Sat- 
urdav, and quite a rumpus was raised over a few rusty pistols or the 
slightest infraction of regulation equipment. The sergeants were 
granted permission to sleep in billets in town and Rue du Marche, 
otherwise known to Captain Derby as Sergeants' Row, was totally 
captured by Battery F. The officers of our battery obtained a nice 
home at 66 Rue Anatole Gabelle and in short order had everything 
coming their way from music to cognac. 

The boys promenaded through the town Sunday afternoon and 
Duckworth afforded us and the French civilians lots of amusement by 
innocently marching at the head of the line with a rabbit foot tied to 
the back of his collar, unknown to him. 

The week of Monday, the 9th, we began close order again. Cor- 
poral Gabarino was assigned a squad and was told by the captain to 

36 



march his squad off. The command Gabby gave has never been de- 
ciphered, and the squad members had the presence of mind to march 
off in a direction as far away from the officers and battery as was 
possible. 

About the 10th of the month Bob Clugston stopped blowing mess 
calls for us and joined the Argonne Players. 

The next few days were all rainy and we were put through such 
hot stuff as cannoneers' drill, firing imitation barrages, doing gun drill 
and cannoneers' post. 

Thursday afternoon we had a "dummy review." It was the first 
time a good many of the boys had ever gone through the thing, and at 
the command, "Eyes Right," a few of the drivers snapped into it, do- 
ing a hand salute at the same time, seeing Captain Derby do it that 
way. The sergeants were conspicuous at this dummy review by their 
absence and they got hell after retreat. Seven men left for Aix les 
Bain on furlough. Sergeants Anderson, Garry, McKenna; Corporal 
Jackson, Cook Malatesta ; Privates Duffy and George Johnson. 

Skillman deserted the sergeants' mess the next day to eat at Cognac 
Maggies. 

We got all dolled up for the inspection Saturday, the 14th, but 
Lieutenant Nissley did the act and everything went on smoothly. At 
night Corporal "Duckie" borrowed some of Mag's equipment and mas- 
queraded as a young Demoiselle through Rue du Marche. He capti- 
vated one by one, Manwarren, McDaniels and Swada, and took them 
in turn promenading in the woods. He collected from each respectively 
ten francs, twelve francs and fifteen francs with a box of cigarettes 
and a button off Swada's blouse as a souvenir. 

Sunday the "Montrot Trio" made their usual nightly dinner calls. 
They were evidently dined and wined too well, for when they blew in 
around midnight, it was mighty dizzy sailing. 

Monday, the 16th, we had reveille at 5.30 A. M. and hiked in a 
pouring rain for seven kilometers with the mud and water oozing in 
and out of our torn and worn only pair of shoes. After a two-hour 
wait in a large soggy field, where it rained some more, the entire bri- 
gade was reviewed by General McCloskey. Hiked back to our mud- 
hole at Arc-en-Barrois. In addition it was our battery's turn to do 
guard mount, followed by guard duty all through that rainy night. 

There followed two days of perpetual rain, and in spite of the 
stone walks already in construction, the mud in and around our bar- 
racks was indescribable. Hauk cleverly pictured the scene to us one 
night, by stepping into the barracks door in a downpour, turning 
around, saying politely and seriously to the person he imagined behind 
him : "Never mind the oars, George, leave 'em in the boat." 

We received new shoes Thursday — English ones, litti' better than 
nothing. Captain Derby was the battalion commander today and Lieu- 
tenant Taylor our battery commander. Captain Derby on his bat- 
talion inspection tour found some thing to make comm.ent upon. He 
sent the following order as battalion commander to Battery F (amount- 
ing, in reality, to writing himself the note) : 

"To C. O. Battery F: 

During his inspection this morning the battalion commander found 
oats sprouting in one of the fourgon wagons belonging to Battery F, 

37 



as well as an empty champagne bottle in another wagon. He directs 
that immediate steps be taken to remedy this condition and that you 
explain by indorsement hereon the action taken. 

By order of Captain Derby, 

Warren W. Nissley, 

1st Lieut. 305th F. A., 

Acting Adj." 

Lieutenant Taylor bustled around for a while, note in hand, and 
responded to the battalion commander to the effect that he had sent 
out a detail of reapers who gathered in the oats and that that he had 
issued instructions that in the future whenever the battery left cham- 
pagne bottles around where the inspectors could find 'em, that they 
should be sure and leave one drink in the bottle for the inspector. 

Saturday, the 21st, instead of our customary morning inspection, 
the regiment marched out to a nice soft, muddy field, and played sol- 
diers. The colonel gave us two rehearsals on receiving regimental 
colors. As soon as we got back to barracks with mud all over our 
shoes and leggings there was a battalion inspection at 11 A. M. 

Sunday the guard forgot to waken the tireless, unrelenting, punc- 
tual Si Kingston, so none of the sergeants were out to reveille. Oh, 
happy day ! Every little bunch had their own little home in town, 
where their obliging and conscientious little French madame would 
prepare their evening meals so as to recall our own home-made dinner 
that mother used to make. We could never discover all of these pal- 
aces, homes, dives, where the different cliques and elements of our 
battery went wont to frequent. Yet, the one home that surpassed all 
others was that where Marshank, Gallagher, Brody, Lynch, Kehr, 
Gross and Fried dined each evening at 6 sharp. La Belle Madeleine 
was always there at 5 P. M. to buy milk and Eddie Lynch spent an 
hour with her trying frantically to demonstrate the English language. 
Whenever words were necessary to enlighten the mystified Miss, Gross 
did the interpreting into French. Our clever young demoiselle would 
womanly believe only the contrary of his statements. It is a miracle 
that between the wiles of Gross and the wooing of the amusing, de- 
monstrative Lynch, the poor young thing did not go crazy. And, if it 
were not for the fact that she had a fiance in the French Army, some 
one in that crowd would have stayed behind in France when our outfit 
pulled out, and hooked up with her. Well, even we, ive have to admit 
she was nice — the nearest thing to an American girl yet discovered in 
France. 

Monday, the 23d, and the next day, Tuesday, we had some real 
sport, in spite of the perpetual rain. We had mounted drill with the 
guns and caissons, the first two sections doing the mounted drill with 
Captain Derby Monday, while the third and fourth sections played war 
with Lieutenant Nissley, using drivers for gun crews. Tuesday the 
sections were changed, the limbers only being used in the mounted 
drill. We laughed and yelled like kids while the horses galloped 
around dashing into position after the captain with his legs swinging 
wildly and his whistle a-blowing. We were soaking wet, but we en- 
joyed it and took pleasure also in viewing a keen horse-race between 
the Captain, Lieutenant Nissley and Lieutenant Taylor on the way 
home from the field. 

38 



Tuesday night, the 24th, the battalion show gave its first perform- 
ance under the management and directorship of our Lieutenant Hill 
at the Arc-en-Barrois Opera House, otherwise known as the "Y" hut. 
It was a howling success. The battery members who contributed to 
the success of the event were Bill Marshak, Max Brody, "Benedictine'' 
Duckworth, Bill Benjamin, Babe McLoughlin, Kehr, Rosenzweig and 
Dupree. Brown entertained on the piano. This was Christmas Eve 
and Chief Labrode was caught returning to his quarters at 1 A. M. 
The Provost Guard halted him in the rain, but the chief got away with 
it by answering in French and in the dark the guard thought it was 
a "frog." 

Christmas Day there were no formations. Most of us stayed in 
bed until about 10 A. M, and then began celebrating. Benedictine and 
Triple Sec made a sure and quick ending to a great many of us, who 
thought we were in for a wild time. One in particular was out in the 
woods on his back and quite a few were carried to their beds. The 
furlough boys arrived in the afternoon. The battalion show was re- 
peated in the evening and went stronger than the previous night. 

Gun drill was resumed the 26th with Lieutenant Hill in charge, he 
seeming to be the only officer who had weathered the Christmas storm. 
The ground was covered with a slight fall of snow. The official 
rumor now is that we leave here December 29th, embark for the States 
January 6th. So McHenry made a couple of more bets on his "sure 
thing" that we would be in New York by January 18th. 

Friday we had the same old drill in the rain and Saturday an in- 
spection by Captain Derby, followed by an equipment check of all 
sections. Sunday, the 29th, First Sergeant Dooley received official 
notice to leave at once for the States tO' be discharged. Monday, the 
30th, we had a review in the big field with "Watch-me-Dolly" at the 
head. Then some gun drill. At retreat the captain made a brief but 
touching speech on Dooley 's departure for the States. He left Tues- 
day morning on the 8 o'clock bus for Chaumont. 

During the day came the glad tidings of nine more men to leave 
on furloughs and with it the sad certainty that we would be another 
month in France. The four officers of our battery must have had some 
inside dope on the situation, because last night they held a dinner for 
four of the English nurses from the hospital. It was an up-to-date 
society event with wine, dancing, 'n everything. Brownie played the 
piano and drank what the officers couldn't, or, rather, what Lieutenant 
Hill didn't see, and Capello and Steiner jazzed with their violin and 
guitar. We wouldn't dare hint that this wasn't the only party that 
our officers pulled ofif in Arc, for the reason that we do not like to 
accuse anybody without being able to prove it, and we can not prove it. 
They must have been too clever for us at camouflaging, or, perhaps, 
no more parties were staged owing to our supposition that Lieutenants 
Hill and Taylor didn't fancy their debut into high society. For one 
thing, we know that "Doc" would rather drink where nobody could 
watch him or where his drinking would not be interfered with by mere 
dancing. 

January 1, 1919. 

The nine lucky devils to go on furlough were aroused by faithful 
Si Kingston at the wonderfully romantic hour of 3 A. M. The per- 

39 



missionaires consisted of Sergeants Ecock, Greenlee, Jacobson; Cor- 
porals Kehoe and Teator ; Bnglar Millon ; Privates Sheppard, Frashour 
and Christofferson. Chambery and Challe des Eaux was the destina- 
tion of these nine, with the privilege of visiting Aix-les-Bains. But 
the lucky break this gang had was that there was no transportation 
at the expiration of their seven days to bring 'em back to Arc and the 
poor lonesome boys had such a good time celebrating their sixteen-day 
stay in Chambery that Ecock, Frashour and Sheppard had to be taken 
to the hospital. 

The first week in January there was a thin covering of snow on 
the ground and our drills were not so boresome. But from the 7th to 
the 21st we had practically an unbroken spell of rain. Occasionaly we 
had a little sleet to make the road hikes dangerous, but most of the 
time it was mud, mud, mud, and drill, drill, drill. Through it all our good 
American grit and sense of humor carried us with a smile. The work 
and troubles of one day were forgotten the next when some amusing 
incident occurred among our men or officers and everything that 
brought a smile helped drive away the germ of homesickness. Lieu- 
tenant Taylor pulled a funny one while drilling the battery on January 
20. The battery was marching in column of squads and was then 
brought into platoon fronts. Lieutenant Hill was in charge of the 
second platoon and the command was executed admirably. Lieutenant 
Taylor did not see Lieutenant Hill and absent-mindedly forgetting his 
presence, complimented the platoon sergeant on the success of the 
movement. Lieutenant Hill stepped forward at the close of the ad- 
dress, saluting with a snappy "Thank you very much, Lieutenant Tay- 
lor." "Blondie" came back to earth with a sudden jerk at this stage 
and reddening up, replied in an undertone that was audible to the en- 
tire battery: "Damn you, if I had any ammunition I would put some 
in you." 

There's an awful funny one that Barty doesn't want us to tell 
about him. He claims that the following stor>' is fictitious, and to say 
the truth, the source of our information was rather unreliable, but 
here goes, even if we do have to fight Bart a "dool." 

Bart had a habit of hanging around in the town "Boulangerie," 
where Mile. Louise distributed circular loaves of that wonderful 
French bread along with her smiles. Barty couldn't "parlez" very 
much and in order to enlarge his French vocabulary and his acquain- 
tance with the young lady he spent his many oflF hours sitting on the 
counter alongside of the Mile., his trusty little dictionary in one hand 
and his free arm around the young lady. The bashful mademoiselle 
had the teasing habit of asking Barty something difficult in French 
which would necessitate his unhitching his free right arm from its, 
comfortable location to stir the pages of his little friend dictionary 
held in his left hand. After the troublesome word had been found and 
her sentence understood, Barty would "Oui, Oui," a few times and 
back went his right arm to its snug quarters. This was repeated many 
times during each session, when, one day in the heat of conversation 
and exasperation, Barty finally flung the embarrassing little book on 
the floor and continued the seance without interruption. 

Oh, varied were the methods, means and where-withals to beguile 
ourselves into believing we were happy and to fight away our dis- 
contentment. Even the venerable and arduous John Quinn, one cold, 

40 



cold night in the last part of January once quit work by his candle 
light long enough to drink a good helping of Triple Sec and he wanted 
to kiss every old woman on the block. The following Sunday it must 
have still had its effect on him, because we are told he was seen even 
talking to Dick's housekeeper, Mme. Louise. 

Wild boar and venison dinners cooked in several hangouts in the 
town with that wonderful French flavor helped make many an evening 
enjoyable that would have been lonesome and dreary. The entire bat- 
tery to a man was eating at least one meal a day somewhere in town. 
We spent our money lavishly on good food and it was the best way 
we could possibly spend it. We were all getting stout and rosy- 
cheeked and just waiting for General Pershing to send us home in a 
hurry so mother could see how much weight we had put on from good 
eats. 

We turned in our revolvers January 25th on Saturday and at noon 
sent our caissons and limbers up to Latrecy with a detail to clean and 
paint them up when the tractor finished pulling them through the mud 
and snow. The caissons were stored in a steel hangar in the large 
aviation field near Latrecy. The guns and limbers arrived at the 
same hangar January 28th. 

The next day the battery was quarantined owing to the epidemic of 
"flu" which had broken out. In two days we had fifty cases taken to 
the hospital and all others were confined to barracks. It was forbid- 
den to eat meals outside barracks. Mess kits had to be left in the 
kitchen and boiled for fifteen minutes. Every precaution was taken, 
even the laughable one of having the well men eat in one bunch in the 
mess hall, followed by the quarantined bunch. "Flu" masks had to be 
worn — whenever the officers were around — and we had to gargle be- 
fore each meal with a preparation of iodine and water. By the last 
day of the month the hospital list had increased to sixty, the fifty sus- 
pect cases confined to barracks were removed to the Hospice, and 
the entire 2d Battalion quarantined. Tolte as evening mess in the 
kitchen gave out to each of the well men hard macaroni sticks to sip 
our coff'ee through saying it was the doctor's orders as a means of 
sterilization and he caught lots of suckers and sippers. 

FEBRUARY. 

The first day of the month we received official orders that we leave 
for Latrecy February 7th and everything must be packed. Sunday the 
2d, we issued our haversacks and pack carriers to drivers and non- 
coms and the unfortunate members of the battery who had been 
shipped to the hospital lost all or most of their personal belongings in 
a clean-out of all barracks. The next day the captain made an in- 
spection of all billets in town to find excess junk in our rooms, but 
owing to our landladies' cooperation, he had no luck. 

Tuesday, the 4th, we had a practice hike in the morning with our 
packs. Word was received of Klink's death in the hospital at Chau- 
mont. It was the first in the battery and all of us took the news hard. 
The captain and six men left immediately for Chaumont to attend his 
funeral and a cloak of despondency settled over everybody which took 
a long time to shake off, for soon after we lost five more men from the 

41 



same "flu," Turner, Englekeis, Youni, George Smith and Corporal 
Siegel. 

February 5th Bill Marshank received his regimental citation for 
valorous conduct and bravery as a runner. 

We were assigned a new top-sergeant February 6th — Fred A. Wal- 
lace, an O. T. S. man and formerly of Battery A, this regiment. Ser- 
geant Tingle was transferred to Battery B and that evening when he 
dropped in to see his old gang at "Cognac Mag's," he was tendered 
a rousing farewell and a wet one. 

The day of our departure from Arc-en-Barrais was changed from 
the 7th to the 9th and it was a lucky break. The rain we had been 
having for a week turned into a severe snow storm late Thursday, the 
6th, and the weather became bitterly cold Friday and Saturday. 

We were called Sunday morning at 4,45 and after breakfast loaded 
our packs on the four wagons that Captain Derby had generously 
hired from the French to carry our heavily laden packs to Latrecy. 
We bade a hasty farewell to Arc and set out at 9.30. It was a stiff 
walk of 13 kilometers to the station and we are quite sure Monsieur 
Reechard would never have survived the trip if he had had his pack 
to carry. The entire regiment was served hot chocolate and sand- 
wiches by the Y. M. in a big tent near the railroad station, and we 
put in quite a supply of cigarettes and chocolate. The train pulled 
out at 3.30 P. M. and for the first time in army life we were com- 
fortable in our "forty hommes" in spite of the cold. There was plenty 
of hay in each car and an average of only 20 men to the car. 

We awoke Monday morning to find ourselves passing through 
beautiful open country and not a sign of snow. Tuesday, the 11th, 
shortly after noon, we passed through Sable, the new headquarters of 
our division, and at 4 P. M. reached Noyen and began unloading our 
train. The battery hiked seven kilometers with full packs and three 
blankets to Malicorne and it nearly killed 'em. We were assigned 
billets at the furthest end of the town and trucks were going back and 
forth from Noyen to Malicorne throughout the night. Sergeant Jacob- 
son, Corporal Quinn, Privates Marshank, McLoughlin, Schaeffer, 
Forund, Finch and Kiernan were left behind in Noyen at the station 
on an all night baggage detail ; but, thanks to a little knowledge of 
French and a kind-hearted French blacksmith home on a twenty-day 
furlough from his outfit, they had a pleasant restful night sleeping 
on the floor of his blacksmith shop with a bottle of cognac for com- 
pany and a couple of wild-eyed French "permissionaires." Bill Mar- 
shank was a sick boy before the festivities began but came out of his 
daze when the fun started. 

The first few days at Malicorne were busy ones, getting our kitch- 
ens agoing, our billets and bunks arranged, salvaging straw for our 
mattresses and a hundred other things. There were good meals to 
be had in town, however, and plenty of vin blanc, so, what the hell, 
a little work didn't bother us. 

The orderly room was a good ways from regimental headquarters, 
the officers' quarters and the officers' mess, so bicycle riding rapidly 
resumed popularity. Captain Derby was "Johnny on the spot," and 
the second day in Malicorne came up the main street towards our bil- 
lets riding a well-battered bicycle rolling and swaying from side to 
side. Nugent was the first to encounter him and noticing the difficulty 

42 



the skipper was having in navigating was afraid to salute for fear the 
captain would take a spill returning it. 

The 14th, St. Valentine's Day in the civilized world, was market 
day in Malicorne, being as it was Friday, and it was a circus. The 
big square was a frantic, howling mob of country women with their 
wares, and eager bargaining townsfolk anxious to complete their pur- 
chases before the more liberal American soldiers could slip away from 
a formation and arrive on the scene. Rabbits, chickens, eggs — all in 
little baskets, changed ownership for beaucoup francs, and the side- 
show peddlers, their canvas tents hastily thrown up, called attention 
to their bargains by ringing bells and blowing funny horns. 

Saturday the colonel had us out for a regimental review and in- 
spection of packs. He must have bawled somebody out, 'cause the 
major gave us a little speech to the effect: "You have proved your- 
selves soldiers, now let's look it." In the afternoon the regimental 
team trimmed the officers at baseball. 

Lieutenant McNevins joined the battery on the 16th after enjoying 
a "Class C" leave to Paris, and the first thing he did was to make a 
speech to us about sanitation. 

Drills in the rain continued regularly and on the 18th by way of 
diversion we hiked eighteen kilometers to let B. P. Glassford, our new 
brigadier-general, look us over. The whole brigade was received in 
a large field the other side of Noyen and after the affair the general 
held a friendly little tete-a-tete with the officers. 

Th next day we had a regimental review and inspection by the 
colonel in a pouring rain, and a speech about our review tomorrow at 
Sable by General Pershing. 

We were up at 5.30 Thursday morning, but the review by General 
Pershing was called off. But as it was still raining the colonel thought 
it would be a good idea to hold another regimental review, and out 
to the field we went. 

Friday we had encore rain, so we marched out to the drill field and 
had a battalion review. When we got back the market had sold out 
and we had to do without eggs. 

Saturday was George Washington's Birthday and in celebration of 
it we had no reveille and breakfast was served about 8.30. The 
Provost Guard had a wild night keeping order in town, and Sunday 
there was many a "big" head. 

Monday, the 24th, Corporal Quinn left on his well-earned pass to 
Paris. The battery left in trucks at 8.45 A .M. for our divisional re- 
view at Sable by General Pershing. We were standing in ranks for 
five hours with aching backs and legs. When things did start, how- 
ever, the sight was impressive. General Pershing and staff with Major 
General Alexander inspected personally every organization in the field 
while the divisional band of 226 pieces filled the air with wonderful 
music. Medals were presented to the heroes of the division and then 
began the review. Our brigade led off with General Glassford at the 
head. About fifty yards past the reviewing stand the entire column 
passed at double time through a mud hole. We sank to our shoetops 
in the soft splashing soil and struggled to free one foot at a time. 
Everybody laughed over it — the general, the troops and the French 
spectators. 

We had our usual reveille the following morning, but the day was 

43 



declared a holiday on account of the high praise the division received 
from General Pershing at the review yesterday. 

Things went along smoothly enough with the officers studying 
Infantry Drill Regulations and all of us wondering when, oh, when, 
would we get those rifles that were now rumored we are certain of 
receiving before we leave Alalicorne. 

On Friday, the 28th, Captain Derby and Captain Dana, figuring 
that carp fishing would be a little more interesting than infantry regu- 
lations and hearing that they were biting good at the lake six kilo- 
meters away, borrowed a neat looking high-perched French carriage 
in which to make the trip. They arrived with two fishing poles and 
potatoes and carrots for bait. The two set out with a frisky horse 
; orrowed from the town blacksmith. The spirited young nag tried to 
make a runaway down the main street and they almost lost a wheel 
ofi the carriage. The two captains had no luck at the lake, however, 
and we believe they can blame it on the bait. 

MARCH. 

Saturday, the 1st, another regimental inspection on the drill field. 
Our belts and haversacks had been washed so often for our many 
inspections that by this time they were a ghastly white. At a meeting 
of the officers and non-coms of the battalion in the afternoon, we were 
told that we could expect to leave this area about April 1st. 

Close order drill and road hikes became less tedious to us the 
entire first week of March, and we enjoyed real sunny springtime. 
Even the captain came out for hikes and then one morning he was 
so full of "pep" he gave us setting up exercises in his original Camp 
Upton style. The little French kids who used to follow us around at 
drills and count "one — two" for us were highly amused by the cap- 
lam's antics leading the battery in physical exercises. They imitated 
him at every count and had us and the captain laughing wildly at 
their freakish efforts. 

Thursday, the 6th, the captain held an examination of non-coms 
in drilling squads and explaining squad movements as the book said 
it should be done. In the evening the 152d F. A. Brigade dance was 
held at the Chateau de Courcilles. Nine men of our battery made the 
trip there and back in the army taxi-cab, and had the extreme pleasure 
of climbing over half a dozen soldiers' backs to get a chance to dance 
two and a quarter minutes with a real live American "Y" girl or Red 
Cross nurse. The Comte de Murat was present with his daughter, 
the Comtess. Sergeant Jacobson and Corporal Jackson got stuck 
with her — the former for three dances. 

Saturday, the 8th, we had our inspection of all equipment on our 
drill field. Another batch of permissionaires left on furlough for 
the Pyrenees. 

Bill Marshak got back Sunday from Paris and told such wonderful 
stories of The Pantheon de la Guerre and Boulevard des Italiens that 
all battery members possessing sufficient funds determined to make 
instant application for "class C" leaves. 

Rifles arrived about this time for everybody, sergeants included. 
The thought of infantry rifle and bayonet drill was another incentive to 
get a furlough and the competition became keen among the applicants 

44 



for Paris leave ; for an original and forcible excuse to have their 
"permissions" granted immediately. One's commercial house in the 
U. S. desired the sudden opening of a branch at Paris ; another's con- 
cern desired samples of Parisian embroideries and hosiery; uncles, 
fathers, grandmothers, brothers, were conveniently moved from all 
parts of the globe to Paris with a street address that might have been 
the Gendarmerie; telegrams from imaginary relatives or concerns de- 
manding instant presentation of some battery member at Monsieurs 
So-and-So's law office in Paris ; these were the means and wiles em- 
ployed to persuade our skeptical but liberal division boss to let us have 
a peep at gay Paree! 

Messrs. Dupree, Liebler and lots of others had their passes come 
through and on March 14th Captain Derby left for Paris, theoreti- 
cally as an official delegate from the division to the American Legation, 
but maybe he wanted to see Paris, too. He brought back a nobby new 
raincoat which was a long time coming to take the place of his other 
one that Lieutenant Hill left up in the Argonne. The captain spent 
quite some time with Lieutenant Burden at Paris, who was acting as 
the secretary for the American Delegation at the Peace Conference. 

Brody, Lynch, Gottlieb and Jacobson left Sunday morning, the 
16th (just in time to miss the distribution and cleaning of our well 
cosmoleyned rifles, to accompany the 77th Division football team to 
Paris). We take this opportunity of thanking the general or what- 
ever bloke was responsible for the granting of Paris passes through 
this ruse. 

Sergeants Jacobson, Gottlieb and Lynch were picked up in Paris 
for looking at the st)Ies in the window of the Gallerie Lafayette, in- 
stead of saluting some tow-headed M. P. lieutenant. Lynch had the 
good fortune of not having name taken, but the next night matters 
were more than evened when Eddie had his pocketbook taken instead 
of his name. Max landed the cream of Paris and the gang recuperated 
from the strain of their visit by staying two days at Sable on the 
way back. 

Lieutenant Nissley's order for immediate discharge in the U. S. 
came through and he left for Le Mans, the 20th. The same day 
came the news of the postponement of the 77th Division's sailing date 
to April 24th. We were sick enough of this useless hanging around 
France. The battery went down to the cafes in unison and steeped 
their sorrow and disappointment in vin blanc. 

On the morning of Monday, the 24th, Sergeants Wallace, Greenlee 
and Jacobson left for Paris. Sergeant Anderson became the acting 
mess sergeant for six days and we are certain his little gang must 
have enjoyed some Epicurean dinners in high style. 

Society notes : Captains Derby and Pike spent the last Sunday of 
the month in La Fleche. Captain Mitchell saw them off at the rail- 
road station. Sergeants Garry and McHenry were guests at a social 
tea at Marshak's and Will Hundt's wash-house. 

APRIL. 

Tuesday was the first day of the month and soaped candy was 
served to all sweet-toothed individuals, the entire orderly room force 
taking the bait. 

45 



The Provost Guard was disbanded Wednesday, the 2d, and our 
battery was moved out of its present quarters to a cluster of small 
farmhouses about two kilometers the other side of town. This move 
was necessary in order to accommodate and make room for the great 
number of casuals assigned to our regiment, and naturally, it was Bat- 
tery F that was picked on. 

We received our para-tpyhoid injection April 3, and were a pretty 
sick bunch for a few days following the "shot." Inspections, how- 
ever, went on just the same. April 4th rifle inspection, after impa- 
tiently awaiting the inspector about four hours on the cold, wet field. 
April 5th equipment inspection by the lieutenant-colonel. The big in- 
spection by the A. E. C. was held on April 7th on our drill field. It 
was sweet music to our ears to learn that the inspectors complimented 
the regiment for our neatness and uniformity. 

Marshak and Brody broke into the limelight again in our regimen- 
tal show which was successfully staged at the "Y" hut the evenings of 
April 7th and 9th. 

The "Battle of Malicorne" was being fought during this period 
with Sergeants McHenry and Garry as corps commanders. The battle 
lasted four days. The field operations were suspended on the last 
day after Mac and Whizz went "beecyelette" riding. Both were well 
loaded, Mac with a bag under his arm containing a dozen eggs. At 
the bottom of the steep hill coming down the bridge at Malicorne, 
Whizz went "over the top" — of his handlebars — and Mac followed 
his partner. Both landed in a heap on the hard gravel road and re- 
ceived grave wounds putting them out of action. Mac got up with 
his right hand cut in slivers, but miraculously managed to keep his 
entire dozen eggs unbroken in the fall. 

We had an "Abandon Camp Drill" Saturday, the 12th, and Monday 
a regimental medical inspection. 

Tuesday, the 15th, the A. E. C. physical inspection was held in 
Malicorne and we walked to the town and back in a pouring rain. 

"Blondie" Taylor did not show up in the orderly room till a late 
hour Wednesday, the 16th. He and Si Kingston had had a wild night. 
Some drunken "frog" ex-soldier locked out by his loving wife occupy- 
ing the building next to "Blondie" tried to gain entrance into his home 
at 3 A. M. by ladder through Lieutenant Taylor's quarters. Nobody 
in the neighborhood got any sleep after that and Si had to call a 
gendarme to end the trouble. 

The morning of the 17th we were up at 5.30, made and loaded 
our packs on the wagons hired to carry 'em to Noyen. Foray showed 
up at the last minute minus his overseas cap. He had spent a wild 
night celebrating our departure from Malicorne — and donned one of 
the captain's head-pieces. Hiked to the station at Noyen where the 
"Y" served us lunch. Jackson, Spencer and Quinn carried Doc Hill's 
raincoat for him to Noyen on their truck. In one pocket they dis- 
covered a bottle and the three slipped away to a deserted spot to help 
themselves to a long drink of good cognac. Their disappointment was 
unspeakable, however, when Doc's hidden treasure turned out to be 
a bottle of plain ordinary "vin rouge." We were loaded into our box 

46 



cars and most of us forgot to put water in our canteens. The train 
pulled out at 2.20 P. M. 

We arrived at Brest about noon without breakfasting. We could 
see the harbor of Brest and a fleet of transports at anchor. The sight 
set us all cheering wildly. Rushed through the A. E, C. kitchen for 
mess and with our packs and overcoats hiked about six kilometers to 
our squad tents at Camp Pontanezan. Had a battery equipment check 
and a good meal at the Embarkation kitchen, with a wonderful system 
of quick, tasteful mess. 

We turned in our French money for exchange into American, early 
Saturday morning, the 19th. We had a medical inspection and a bath, 
by the numbers. The soap furnished reeked of mustard gas or some- 
thing worse. No casualties were reported. In the afternoon, wearing 
our packs and overcoats, we hiked down for an equipment inspection 
that looked weak and foolish to us. 

Sunday, the 20th, we were ordered to make packs for another in- 
spection. Then the order was changed to leave immediately for em- 
barkation on the Agamemnon. Left camp at 12.20 P. M. without din- 
ner. We hiked for six kilometers under a boiling sun with packs and 
overcoats. No one can appreciate the comfort and delight of such a 
hike without making it personally. Bachman and Hage were out visit- 
ing and narrowly missed going along with us to the States, catching 
the battery before we left camp by only two minutes to spare. 

We lined up on Pier No. 5 and as the Embarkation Officer called 
each name for loading on the lighters, each member of ten batteries 
responded more eagerly than his predecessor, all but Lampley. He, 
in his quaint slothful way, sauntered carelessly up to the booth an- 
swering "Frederick M.," as if it never mattered whether he got on 
board or not. At 3 P. M. we were aboard the Agamemnon, assigned 
to our bunks and began waiting for chow. We stood in line four 
and a half hours, hungry, tired and wet through and through from 
our hike to the dock. It was nearly 9 P. M, when the last of our 
men received their mess consisting of two hot dogs, a piece of bread 
and a cup of tea. 

Gradually the system of feeding the 5.687 army passengers on 
board from one kitchen was bettered, and by the middle of our voyage 
things weren't so bad. We were ordered to wear at all times our life 
jackets and mess kits. 

For the first time we appreciated the song "Homeward Bound" by 
our regimental band, as the "Aggie' started off at 12.40 P. M. 

The entire voyage was exceptionally delightful. At all times the 
sea was calm and the weather perfect. Tuesday night, the 22d, a 
show and dance was given on board for the officers and nurses, but 
1st and 2d lieutenants were not permitted to attend. 

The different regimental shows performed for the benefit of the 
enlisted men and officers and beginning Wednesday we had ice cream 
for several days on sale at the canteen. 

Thursday brought a medical and bug inspection on deck. 

The next day Lusian, Hair, Williams and seven others were 
stretched out on "A" deck carelessly talking about what they wouldn't 
do with a dollar if they had it. The first mentioned won unanimously 
by suggesting the purchase of 20 packages of Cracker- Jack, two pack- 
ages to be given each member of the party. But the crowd was bank- 

47 



rupt. Suddenly an envelope flopped down in the center of the gather- 
ing. There was a mad scramble and upon opening the envelope it 
was found to contain a half dollar and two quarters. One of the 
ninety-nine Red Cross nurses who were on board had unsuspectingly 
been the audience to their wish for a dollar. Her stateroom window 
was just above their heads and in two minutes the boys were smilingly 
offering their benefactress to join them in munching twenty packages 
of Cracker-Jack. 

Captains Derby and Mitchell took a nightly constitutional around 
the deck of the boat, fighting the war all over again as they walked 
along with rapid gait. 

Most of us spent all day Monday trying to sew our newly issued 
double service stripes on blouse and O. C. before we landed. 

Land was sighted about 8.30 A. M. The view of New York Har- 
bor, with the "Welcome" boats steaming up the bay to meet the 
Agamemnon and the Statue of Liberty in the distance, brought tears 
of joy to men who never before had felt the pangs of separation from 
home and dear ones. The crowded ferries and tugs came alongside 
with banners proclaiming the names of the returning boys whose 
families were bent on getting the first glimpse of his tanned, smiling 
face. Jimmie Houlihan's family beat the Mayor's Welcome Boat to 
it by having a special tug of their own, and for nearly half an hour 
they held conversation with Jim, till the Agamemnon put on speed and 
raced into dock leaving the puffing little tug hopelessly plowing 
through the water far in the rear. We docked at Pier No. 2, Hoboken, 
and landed on U. S. soil at 10.30 A. M. We were formed in batteries 
near the railroad yards while our relatives and friends sought to 
evade the vigilance of the M. P. guards and tried to break through 
the lines to greet the boys. The guards were incapable of handling 
the vast crowd. After a short furious stampede the mob burst through 
the gate in the wire fence and surged around the delighted soldiers. 
Many a mother, sister and sweetheart slipped through and grabbed a 
sun-browned soldier in a happy squeeze of welcome. It was the first 
time this had occurred at the debarkation point. In twenty minutes 
order was restored and the breathless, elusive civilians were once more 
barred behind the high wire fence to throw the boys oranges and cig- 
arettes. Eddie Lynch's father, eager to see his boy, resorted to a 
happy ruse that worked. His hat pulled down far over his head and 
broom in hand, pretending to be one of the railroad yard workers, he 
walked along the tracks brushing and sweeping. He quietly inquired 
of the soldiers in rank where Battery F was. The unsuspecting 
guards let him pass, and Ed and his pop met in a wild catch-as-catch- 
can match before the presence of the outsider was discovered. We 
took the ferry to Long Island and the trains to Camp Mills, where we 
were quickly lodged in tents and fed. Visitors swamped the camp all 
this day and the next, and many a fellow took a flyer and beat it to 
New York City for the night. 

Thursday, May 1st, we were up at 4 A. M. to be deloused and re- 
equipped. All city boys received their 48-hour passes good from noon 
today until noon Saturday, and it was "Home, Sweet Home" for us 
by the quickest route. Quite a few of the boys overstayed their passes 
and did not show up by 7 P. M. Sunday night, when we had to sign 
the pay-roll sheets, discharge papers, insurance blanks and other 

48 



things. An order was received that all men not having reported by 
that time to sign their papers would be transferred to the Depot Bri- 
gade — and twelve men in our outfit were out of luck, not being dis- 
charged until a week after the battery had been mustered out. 

Monday, May 5th, we were roused at 5 A. M., made our packs and 
boarded the electric train at 8.15. Reached New York and marched to 
the 9th Coast Artillery Armory on 14th Street. We left our packs and 
equipment and were dismissed until tomorrow, the day of the 77th 
Division parade. 

We assembled 7.30 A. M. Tuesday at the armory carrying our light 
"haversack" packs and helmets and formed near Washington Arch. 
Paraded up Fifth Avenue in great style and with break-neck speed 
past the great tiers of grandstands filled to overflowing with friends 
and loved ones. At 110th Street we passed in review before General 
Alexander and continued on to 125th Street, taking the subway down 
to the armory, where we were dismissed for the day. 

The next morning we were down to the armory again at 7.30 and 
hiked to 34th Street. At 1 P. M. arrived in Camp Upton — the same 
Camp Upton that we had spent seven months in training before going 
across. These barracks certainly looked good to us. We felt at home 
in them and settled into our iron bunks comfortably. 

Among the souvenirs Captain Derby brought back with him from 
France was a German automatic pistol. While in New York he ex- 
hibited his trophies to his wife. In demonstrating the action of the 
revolver, the weapon unexpectedly went off. A tragedy was nar- 
rowly averted, as Captain Derby was holding the gun muzzle down. 
The shot fortunately missed Mrs, Derby and striking the floor bored 
its way through for more than a foot into the heavy apartment flooring. 

Thursday, May 8th, we turned in such of our equipment that was 
no longer needed. Then we were marched down to the Y. M. C. A. 
at 8th Street for a series of lectures on re-enlistment, compensation, 
etc. Corporals Jackson and Quinn and Dick Spenser, the "Office Force 
Trio," worked till long after midnight getting our service records into 
completion for the coming discharge. 

Friday, the 9th, we were aroused at 2.15 A. M. and walked to 8th 
Street for our physical examination in the middle of the night. Got 
back to our bunks about 4.30 A. M. and slept till 7 A. M. At 9.30 
we were down again to the "Y" hut for a lecture on insurance and 
prophylaxis. Turned in our blankets and all other Government prop- 
erty we are not allowed to keep. We slept at night in our overcoats 
on the iron bimks as we had no blankets. 

Up at 4 A. M. Saturday, May 10th. Breakfast served at 4.30 and 
we cleaned up our barracks. Turned in our mess kits and hiked down 
to the paymaster's office in a pouring rain. We waited three hours in 
the incessant cold drizzle before our turn came to receive our final pay 
with the $60.00 bonus. 

It was a happy, singing bunch that walked through the mud and 
water down to the railroad station, with dripping wet faces and clothes. 
Captain Derby stood at the gate entrance to the cars, and, as each man 
of his old loved battery received his honorable discharge and passed 
through the gate, the captain grasped his hand in a farewell grip of 
good luck and goodfellowship — and Battery F, 305, ceased to be — in 
the annals of American History. But in the minds of every member 

49 



we are still, and will remain forever, the same outfit, the same happy 
comrades, with our bonds of friendship strengthening with the years. 
On Tuesday night. May 13th, the 305th F. A. Regimental Associa- 
tion held a dance and entertainment at the 9th C. A. Armory. It was 
our farewell night. Mr. and Mrs. Derby were there, Lieutenants 
Nissley and Taylor, and almost all of the boys. Some of us were al- 
ready in civilian clothes and before the party broke up the battery pre- 
sented Captain Derby with a silver smoking service as a token of the 
eternal esteem and love we hold for him. 

[To be continued in the next war] 



50 



APPENDIX A. 

P. C, 77th Division, 3 October, 1918. 

General Order No. 29. 

1. The following is published for the information of all concerned. The 
Divison Commander desires that this communication be brought to the attention 
of every member of the command at the earliest practicable moment: 
"729/G3. 

Advanced Headquarters First Army Corps, 

October 2, 1918. 
From Commanding General, 1st Army Corps, U. S. 
To : Commanding General, 77th Division, U. S. 
Subject: Commendation. 

1. The Corps Commander has directed me to extend to you and to the 
entire 77th Division a most cordial expression of his gratification at the steady, 
solid progress made since the beginning of the operation now under way. 

2. The difficulties of terrain are fully understood and the amount of ground 
gained is noteable, while your supplies and communications are thoroughly sat- 
isfactory. 

3. Individual cases of special merit should be brought promptly to the at- 
tention of these headquarters for suitable recognition without waiting for a 
complete list after the operations are completed. 

By Command of Major General Liggett. 

Maun Craig, Chief of Staff. 

By Command of Major General Alexander. 

J. R. R. Hannay, Chief of Staff. 



51 



Headquarters 305 F. A., 
American Ex. Forces, 
3rd Oct, 1918. 



APPENDIX B. 
Regtl. P. C. (ne aux Charmes, 58.18) 

General Orders No. 39: 

1. The Regtl. C. O. desires the command to be fully informed that on two 
occasions in the last few days the effective and prompt artillery support rendered 
by this regiment has been a matter of most favorable report by Infantry Offi- 
cers, and has made possible the infantry advance, on such occasions, with but 
small loss, while inflicting heavy losses on the Germans. On the second occa- 
sion the mission was over difficult terrain from an artillery standpoint; it had 
been impossible to see where our shots were falling; no circumstances permitted 
even any rough registration; yet our very first shots fell squarely in a barbed 
wire entanglement that marked our initial barrage that did such material dam- 
age to same; rolled on and caught the Germans in their trench system, com- 
pelling some surrenders, and putting two machine gun nests out of action. The 
range on both occasions was about 3?4 tniles, and very little time had been given 
the officers to figure the data. 

2. The officers and men are equally congratulated, and entitled to compli- 
mentary notice for their accurate and prompt work. The accurate computation 
of the officers would have been useless, unless backd up by the magnificent gun 
discipline displayed by the gun crews. 

3. The above will be read to the command. 

F. C. Doyle, Colonel 305 F. A. 



52 



ROSTER 



Anderson, Carl, Eaton, Colo. 

Anderson, Nils E, 211 West 107th St., New York City. 

Anderson, Otto, Wanki, Minn. 

Anderson, Victor E., R. F. D. No. 2, Monticello, Minn. 

Autrey, Alxie E., Coppell, Texas. 

Backman, John M., 208 Lexington Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Barale, Vincent, 989 Enterprise St., McKeesport, Pa. 

Barbatsuly, George, P., 312 West 27th St., New York Ctiy. 

Bartalini, Omero. 

Bartleson, Jesse, 1313 Washington Boulevard, Chicago, 111, 

Benjamin, William, 243 Marcy Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Beszpoisnick, Leibe, 713 North Main St., Charles City, la. 

Birmingham, Robert. 

Blome, Albert R., 311 East 70th St., New York City. 

Boernsen, John August, R. F. D. No. 1, Hartley, la. 

Bohannan, John A., Wheller, 111. 

Boyle, Richard. 

Brady, George, 581 East 136th St., New York City. 

Brewer, Earl, Orland, Cal. 

Brody, Max, 1455 Washington Ave., New York City. 

Brouillette, Harry J., 310 River St., North Adams, Mass. 

Brown, Charles E., 461 West 155th St., New York City. 

Brunk, Jacob G., 179th St. and Webster Ave., New York City. 

Burden, Chester G. 

Cairns, Hugh, 198 Colyer St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Carlisle, Willis, Livingston, Texas. 

Carroll, Daniel E., 31 Manhattan St., New York City. 

Carson, John W., Deposit, N. Y. 

Cederburg, Gust. 

Christofferson, Christoffer, Lengly, la. 

Clark, Daniel. 

Clark, Harry, 1425 Geary St., Harrisburg, Pa. 

Clugston, Robert, 139 West 47th St., New York City. 

Collins, John. 

Connors, Frank J., 162 Lebanon Ave., Pittsfield, Mass. 

Cooperstein, Abraham, 352 East 119th St., New York City. 

Cordes, Ernest H., Henning, Minn. 

Crane, Garnett, 6217 East 14th St., Kansas City, Mo. 

Cushman, John, 20 North "A" St., Irvington, N. Y. 

Davis, Miles E., 19 Pleasant St., Wellsville, N. Y. 

DeBert, Frank, 714 West Grant Ave., Chicago, 111. 

Derby, James Lloyd, 48 East 61st St., New York City. 

Dooley, John J., 212 East 70th St., New York City. 

Doyle, James. 

Duckworth, William J., 214 West 16th St., New York City. 

Duellmann, Robert, 345 South 4th St., Hamilton, Ohio. 

Duffy, John J., 590 East 138th St., New York City. 

Dupree, Bernard E., 107 Warburton Ave., Yonkers, N. Y. 

Easson, Chester. 

Ecock, James, 4th St., Sheepshead Bay, N. Y. 

Eidson, James, Enterprise, Ala. 

Elkin, Gabe F., Easton, Wash. 

Ervin, Roy F., Lawton, Okla. 

Ellis, James, Paris, Ky. 

Erickson, Severt, Sioux Falls, S. D. 

Farina, Gaetano, 169 East 23d St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Finch, Charles H., Halcyon Park, New Rochelle, N. Y. 

Fomund, Lawrence, 770 Jackson Ave., New York City. 

Foray, John M., 15 West 67th St., New York City. 

Francis, John Logan, Box No. 82, Tuttle, Okla. 

Frasher, Earl J., 412 East 160th St.. New York City. 

Freed, Oscar A., 1606 11th Ave., S. E., St. Cloud, Minn. 

Freshour, Alfred E., Corning, la. 

53 



Fried, Philip, 109 Belmont Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Fuglestad, Thorwald, Cooperstown, N. D. 

Gallagher, Peter, 2332 Andrews Ave., New York City. 

Galliford, Samuel, 215 West Main St., Batavia, N. Y. 

Garbarino, Andrew H., R. F. D. No. 1, Huntington, N. Y. 

Garry, William A., 421 West 141st St., New York City. 

George, Raymond, Livermore, Cal. 

Glode, Arthur, 49 Emmett St., Marlboro, Mass. 

Goodwin, Walter, 919 East 232d St., New York City. 

Gormley, Martin A., 524 West 159th St., New York City. 

Gottlieb, Morris, 8-10 West 117th St., New York City. 

Graves, William A., 124th and Yocust Sts., Valley Junction, Iowa. 

Greenlee, Gordon B., 543 Prospect Ave., Newark, N. J. 

Gross, Emanuel, 1027 East 167th St., New York City. 

Gusa, Eddie, R. F. D. No. 1, Plainview, Minn. 

Hagan, Peter, 1267 S. Buckwell St., Philadelphia, Pa. 

Hage, Frank J., 1216 Thrall Ave., Woodhaven, L. I. 

Hair, Edwin Andrew, Brownell, Kan. 

Haller, Albert, 208 Fifth Ave., Virginia, Minn. 

Hanley, James W., jr., Wachusett St., Holden, Mass. 

Hanlnn, Edison, 22 Orlando St., Sprirgfield, Mass. 

Hanney, Frank, 108 S. California Ave., Chicago, 111. 

Ilatncld. Earl. 

Hauk, Arthur J., 5511 Hirsch St., Chicago, 111. 

Hecker, Arthur J., Sumatra, Mont. 

Helgeson, Gilbert, Roslyn, N. Y. 

Henderson, William B., 126 Fulton St., Youngstown, Ohio. 

Hennessey, Joseph, 837 Main St., Springfield, Mass. 

Henricksen, Hans C, Charter Oak, Iowa. 

Hensley, Arthur. 

Herman, Albert Samuel, 453 West South St., Akron, Ohio. 

Hernbon, John F., R. F. D. No. 2, Pecan Gap, Texas. 

Herrmann, August, 2442 Myrtle Ave., Evergreen, N. Y. 

Hertz, Joseph, 984 Simpson St., New York City. 

Hilbold, Carl, Lima, Ohio. 

Hill, Albert B., 164 Harrison St., Qarksburg, W. Va. 

Hock, William, 383 Berrman St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Hoerber, John H., 310 Maryland St., Buffalo, N. Y. 

Hogan, Arthur, 3222 Washington Ave. N., Minneapolis. 

Holmer, William S., 2920 Bryant Ave., N. Minneapolis, Minn. 

Hopkins, John J., 101 Rodgers Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Horton, George R., 2187 7th Ave., New York City. 

Houlihan, James A., 2867 Bainbridge Ave., New York City. 

Hovey, Myron, 305 West 97th St., New York City. 

Howard, Patrick, 99 Fort Washington Ave., New York City. 

Hundt, WilHam H., 330 East 139th St., New York City. 

Hurst, Edward James, 1408 Pleasant St., Cincinnati, Ohio. 

Huscher, Robert W., Lincoln Ave. and Baltic St., Jamaica, N. Y. 

Ives, Ray, New Underwood, S. D. 

Jackson, Douglas N., 345 Fifth Ave., New York City. 

Jacobson, Benjamin, 966 St. Nicholas Ave., New York City. 

Johnson, Arthur J., Swea City, Iowa. 

Johnson, George W., Lester Prairie, Minn. 

Kadlec, Frank, 355 East 74th St., New York City. 

Kaplan, Samuel, 331 East 56th St., New York City. 

Kaufmann, Samuel. 

Kehoe, William, 330 East 34th St., New York City. 

Kehr, Albert W., 410 East 155th St., New York City. 

Kiernan, Patrick J., Box 41, East Northport, L. I. 

Kingston, Cyrus C. 1414 Massachusetts Ave., North Adams, Mass. 

Kingston, George R., Brasher Falls, N. Y. 

Kruchell, Fred G., 7403 S. Sangamon St., Chicago, 111. 

McClenaghan, Andrew. 

McCormack, Joseph, 2084 Anthony Ave., New York City. 

McDaniel, Hubert, Gidson, Mo. 

McDermott, James. 

McElheny, Leo H., Rushford, N. Y. 

54 



McHenry, George R., 1010 McGovern St., Little Rock, Ark. 

McHugh, Leo Joseph, 496 Linwood St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

McKenna, Bartholomew P., 320 East 140th St., New York City. 

McLaughlin, James P., 423 Wrights Court, Scranton, Pa. 

McNevin, Alfred C. B., 924 President St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Labrecque, Alfredo Romeo, 49 Roseland St., Springfield, Mass. 

LaBrode, Henry C, 22 Lincoln St., Pittsfield, Mass. 

LaManna, John, 3312 Georgia Ave., N. W., Washington, D. C. 

Lampley, Frederick M., Hickman, Cal. 

Larkin, Eugene L., 2 Marble Hill Ave., New York City. 

LaRue, William H., 409 Eldert St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Lashansky, Hugo, 168 East 90th St., New York City. 

Lasher, Mordecai J., 98 Second Ave., New York City. 

Liebler, George, Jr., 246 West 230th St., New York City. 

Lingren, Samuel, Tuduck, Iowa. 

Lomberg, Benny, 1212 Washburn Ave., Chicago, 111. 

Lusian, Isador W., 407 Roberts St., Crookston, Minn. 

Luther, Loren Robert, Minden Mines, Mo. 

Lynch, Edward A., 2454 DeVoe Terrace, New York City. 

Macken, Michael F., 148 First St., Pittsfield, Mass. 

Maclis, Juan, Phoenix, Ariz. 

Malotista, Adolph, 475 Pearl St., New York City. 

Mandelblatt, Nathan, 874 Longwood Ave., New York City. 

Manwarren, Will O., Bigelow, Minn. 

Marshak, William, 907 East 173d St., New York City. 

Martin, Propof, 9 Canal St., New York City. 

Masterson, Andrew J., 631 First Ave., New York City. 

Meagher, William H., 2671 Bainbridge Ave., New York City. 

Michels, John. 

Miller, Kenneth L., R. F. D. No. 1, Nashua, N. H. 

Miller, Edward W., 5 Corinth Ave., Elmhurst, L. I. 

Millon, Noel, Delmonico Hotel, 44th St. and Fifth Ave., New York City. 

Minkler, James, 31 Powell Ave., Newport, R. I. 

Musgrave, Arthur. 

Nagleschmidt, William. 

Nelson, Harry, Sibley, Mich. 

Neptune, Harold B., Colabar, Mont. 

Neuwerth, Charles, 381 East 153d St., New York City. 

Nielsen, Niels Peter, 362 43d St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Nikolai, Steve, 308 Tillamook St., Portland, Ore. 

Nilson, John. 

Nissley, Warren W., 382 Fulton Ave.. Hempstead, L, I. 

Nugent, Joseph, 2660 8th Ave., New York City. 

Obregon, Jose. 

O'Connor, Arthur W., 622 West Belden Ave., Syracuse, N. Y. 

Parlee, Arthur, Rockford, III. 

Patterson, Cody F., Kimball, Neb. 

Payne, John H., 274 Poultenay St., Geneva, N. Y. 

Peasley, Arthur M., Arson, Iowa. 

Peters Frsncis B 

Pohlm'ann, Robert W., 269 Carmelia St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Quinn, John A., 2043 North 11th St., Philadelphia, Pa. 

Ranck, Roy, 2827 East 64th St., Kansas City, Mo. 

Rarrick, Joseph W., 91-2 Moosac St., Adams, Mass. 

Riley, William. 

Roberson, Arch, R. F. D. No. 1, Lyles, Tenn. 

Rodgers. Jerome R., 443 East 165th St., New York City. 

Rolke, William. 

Roache, Thomas F., 1362 Bergen St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Romito, Francesco, 78 Skillman St., Brooklyn, N._ Y. 

Rosenzweig, Max, 707 Cauldwell Ave., New York City. 

Roshovsky, Meyer, 1381 Washington Ave., New York City. 

Russell, James, 208 Blatchley Ave., New Haven, Conn. 

Russell, Linwood L., Mechanic Falls, Maine. 

Salatino, Antonio, 33 Circular Ave.. Pittsfield, Mass. 

Sammler, Charles, 414 East 138th St., New York City. 

Sarver, Grover C, Wexford, Pa. 

55 



Sarzen, Frederick R., Westfield, Mass. 

Schaeffer, Carl H., 2114 Caton Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Schroeder, William, Box No. 35, Mercer, Wis. 

Schultz, Philip, 403 Goethe St., Buffalo, N. Y. 

Schwichtenberg, Henry C, 148 West 27th St., Bayonne, N. J. 

Searle, Howard. 

Shay, Daniel, College Hill, Ohio. 

Shepard, John R, 42 Guilds Place, Pittsfield, Mass. 

Shepherd, Thornton. 

Skillman, Irving S., 414 Convent Ave., New York City. 

Smith, Albert Field, 31 Van Dam St., New York City. 

Spaulding, Harry. 

Spencer, Richard A., 2231 Valentine Ave., New York City. 

Spenzola, Angelo, 15 Bay 14th St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Spiegel, Marvin, 909 West End Ave., New York City. 

Stanfield, John A., Tulare, Cal. 

Stanton Ivan Lee, Enosburg Falls, Vt. 

Starkie Henry M., 392 Webster Ave., New Rochelle, N. Y. 

Steis, Edmond G. 

Stengren, Bernard, 136 Dikeman St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Strong, Louis P., Jr., 12 Balsam St., Saranac Lake, N. Y. 

Sullwold, Friedrich, R. F. D. No. 1, Stillwater, Minn. 

Swada, Walter, Blooming Prairie, Minn. 

Tagliaferri, Joseph. 

Talty, Peter J. 234 East 33d St., New York City. 

Tarulo, Michele, 677 Morris Ave., New York City. 

Taylor, Reuben T., Frankfort, Ky. 

Teator, Foster, Tivoli, N. Y. 

Thomas, Leonard L., Olin, Iowa. 

Tingle, John K., Connorsville, Ind. 

Tung, Gee, 715 7th Ave., New York City. 

Urso, Tony, 347 East 24th St., New York City. 

Vallandingham, Oscar, Ward, Ark. 

Van Riper, Charles, Holly, Mich. • 

Vaughan, John J., 217 East 47th St., New York City. 

Verdin, Grady. 

Waldbillig, Edward, Drummond, Mont. 

Wallace, Fred L., 30 Church St., New York City. 

Walsh, Thomas P., Ill St. Ann's Ave., New York City. 

Ware, Roger, Phoenix, Ariz. 

Warmers, Robert. 

Watkins, Harry. 

Wells, Charles R., 517 North Alastic St., Haddfield, N. J. 

Wells, William A., R. F. D. No. 3, Fillmore, N. Y. 

Whitman, Francis. 

Williams, Daniel F., 68 Ranney St., Springfield, Mass. 

Wittenberg, Samuel, 186 Covert St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Wright, George, Severance, N. Y. 

Wubbe, William, 7505 17th Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Younger, Edwin. 

Zeliff, Shirlev, Almond, N. Y. 

Mitchell, C.'Von E. 



56 



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